THE  LIBRARY   X 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


" 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 


PHILOSOPHY  &  WAR 


EMILE    BOUTROUX 

MEMBRE    DE    l/ACADliMJE    FKANfAISF. 


AUTHORIZED  TRANSLATION  BY 

FRED    ROTHWELL 


NEW  YORK 

E.   P.   DUTTON   AND   COMPANY 
1916 


Printed  in  England 


PREFACE 

Is  the  rapprochement  of  these  two  words, 
philosophy  and  war,  a  legitimate  one?  Do 
not  war  and  philosophy  belong  to  two  en- 
tirely different  worlds  ?  Should  we  not  regard 
as  artificial  and  incongruous  all  attempts  to 
find  any  relation  between  the  manifestations  of 
force  and  the  serene  untrammelled  specula- 
tions of  the  spirit  ? 

Assuredly,  this  is  not  the  point  of  view  of 
the  Germans.  The  official  representatives  of 
German  science  and  art  have  insisted  on  de- 
claring before  the  whole  of  the  civilized  world 
that  the  present  war  was  entered  upon  and 
has  been  waged  by  Germany  in  full  conformity 
with  the  principles  of  such  men  as  Kant  and 
Goethe,  whilst  their  generals  state  that  the 
German  officer  is  nothing  else  than  the  visible 
representative,  the  incarnation,  of  the  cate- 
gorical imperative.  Open  one  of  those  numer- 
ous and  magnificent  tear-off  calendars  for  the 
year  1916,  one  of  the  methods  of  propagand- 
ism  employed  in  Germany,  and  you  will  find, 

V 

2041312 


vi  PREFACE 

on  every  page,  quotations  from  German 
thinkers,  intended  to  explain  and  justify  the 
conduct  of  their  country  in  this  war. 

It  is  but  just,  also,  to  state  that  the  Germans 
themselves  regard  the  war  as  the  culmination 
of  their  philosophy. 

It  would  none  the  less  be  wholly  out  of 
place  to  render  the  German  philosophers  of 
the  past  responsible  for  the  use  which  is  now 
being  made  of  their  doctrines.  "  The  same 
thoughts,"  said  Pascal,  "  do  not  always  grow 
and  develop  in  others  as  they  do  in  their 
creator."  Though  the  categorical  imperative 
of  Kant  is  at  the  present  time  advanced  as 
proof  that  cruelty  ceases  to  be  cruelty  when 
practised  on  behalf  of  German  discipline, 
manifestly  a  like  misinterpretation  of  his  ideas 
cannot  be  imputed  to  Kant  himself. 

There  have  been  world-wide  protests  against 
the  assumption  of  the  Germans  that  their 
present-day  doctrines  are  to  be  found  in  the 
works  of  their  great  philosophers.  How,  for 
instance,  are  we  to  reconcile  the  doctrine  of  a 
head-nation  (Herrenvolk) ,  destined  by  provi- 
dence to  have  dominion  over  all  others,  with 
the  conclusion  reached  in  the  political  philo- 
sophy of  Kant:  "  International  right  must  be 
based  on  a  federalism  of  free  States  "  (auf 


PREFACE  vii 

einen  Foderalismus  freier  Staaten)  ?  It  cannot 
be  repeated  too  often  that  the  masters  of 
German  thought  were  idealists,  enamoured  of 
truth  and  devoted  to  the  cause  of  the  spirit, 
and  that  their  work  offers  an  anticipatory  dis- 
avowal of  the  consequences  which  present-day 
Germans  claim  to  deduce  from  it. 

Nevertheless,  does  it  follow  that  to  fall  back 
upon  the  authority  of  their  great  thinkers  is 
purely  arbitrary  on  the  part  of  the  Germans, 
and  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  writings  of 
these  great  men  to  afford  the  slightest  pretext 
for  the  present  aberrations  ? 

Assuredly,  one  of  the  doctrines  which  con- 
tribute most  effectively  to  foster  the  unre- 
strained ambitions  of  the  German  nation  is 
the  belief  in  the  altogether  unique  and  quasi- 
divine  excellence  of  the  German  race,  of 
Germanism  (Deutschheit).  Now,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  this  doctrine  was  philosophically 
deduced  by  Fichte  himself,  for,  in  his  Reden 
an  die  deutsche  Nation,  he  proves  that  the 
German  people  is  that  very  self  of  the  world 
which  is  interchangeable  with  God  in  his 
previous  writings,  and  also  that  nothing  but 
Germanism  is  capable  of  producing  in  this 
world  of  ours  any  real  or  genuine  science  or 
morality  at  all. 


viii  PREFACE 

If  we  examine,  along  these  lines,  a  number 
of  the  great  ideas  of  German  philosophy,  such 
as  the  Hegelian  identity  of  the  rational  and 
the  real,  the  Hegelian  theory  of  the  State,  the 
Fichtean  doctrine  of  the  unreality  of  a  right 
unprotected  by  force,  the  conclusion  of 
Goethe's  Faust:  "  He  alone  merits  life  and 
freedom,  who  has  to  win  them  anew,  day  by 
day";  the  great  Kantian  and  German  prin- 
ciple: the  self  is  constituted  only  by  contrast, 
the  being  only  realizes  itself  by  struggling 
against  its  contrary;  or  even  the  doctrine,  so 
general  amongst  German  philosophers,  that 
sin  is  the  first  form  of  activity,  that  evil  is 
the  condition,  or  even  the  generator,  of  good, 
as  night  is  the  mother  of  light ;  if  we  meditate 
on  such  principles,  we  note  that  whilst,  of 
themselves,  they  express  only  metaphysical 
views,  they  all  the  same  lend  themselves  to 
applications  more  or  less  similar  to  those 
which  the  Germans  are  now  making  of  them. 
The  Greeks  set  up  the  principle  that  all 
truth  becomes  error  when  exaggerated  and  not 
kept  within  bounds — i.e.,  when  no  account  is 
taken  of  the  equally  certain  truths  which 
limit  it.  The  German  mind,  however,  en- 
amoured of  unity  and  systematization,  scorns 
moderation,  and,  unchecked,  sets  forth  the 


PREFACE  ix 

consequences  of  the  principle  it  has  once 
established  as  fundamental.  The  common 
people  believe  that,  if  we  would  pass  from  the 
simple  formulae  of  theory  to  the  endless  com- 
plexities of  practice,  it  is  always  necessary  to 
appeal  to  good  sense.  But  the  German  philo- 
sopher, who  holds  the  principles  of  science 
itself,  is  superior  to  good  sense;  he  leaves  it  to 
the  profane. 

It  is  to  be  remarked,  moreover,  that  many 
of  the  great  German  theories,  such  as  those 
just  mentioned,  are  opposed  to  classic  teach- 
ings, and  have  even  been  established  for  the 
very  purpose  of  contradicting  them.  For 
instance,  the  Greeks  could  never  have  said 
that  the  rational  and  the  real  are  identical,  or 
that  the  spirit  exists  only  if  realized  materially. 

Consequently,  whilst  maintaining  that  the 
ideas  of  the  present  were  not  those  of  the 
great  German  philosophers,  we  are  forced  to 
recognize  that  the  theories  of  these  very 
masters  contained  germs  capable  of  being  de- 
veloped along  the  line  of  these  ideas.  Es  lag 
sehr  nahe,  according  to  the  familiar  expression ; 
it  was  but  a  short  step,  for  instance,  from  the 
identity  of  the  rational  and  the  real  to  the 
justification  of  the  real  as  such. 

Hence,  it  is  both  permissible  and  profitable 


x  PREFACE 

to  see  the  connection  between  the  Kriegsge 
branch  im  Landkriege  (The  German  War 
Book)  and  German  philosophy.  Perhaps,  in 
this  philosophy,  we  shall  not  find  the  Kriegsge- 
brauch  preformed,  like  a  statue  represented  be- 
forehand in  a  block  of  marble,  but  we  shall 
recognize,  in  a  general  and  abstract  way,  the 
very  principles  to  which  appeal  is  made  in  the 
Kriegsgebrauch,  and  shall  see  that,  in  some 
ways,  these  principles  lent  themselves  to  the 
use  now  being  made  of  them. 

Heine  said  that  Germany  was  a  soul  seeking 
for  itself  a  body.  And,  indeed,  ever  since  the 
dissolution  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  of 
German  nationality,  Germany  has  been  aspir- 
ing after  political  unity  as  the  indispensable 
condition  of  the  establishment  of  her  empire 
throughout  the  world.  Now,  the  Germans,  by 
persuading  themselves,  along  with  their  philo- 
sophers, that  thought  is  nothing  unless  it  be 
realized,  and  that  spirit  exists  only  through 
matter,  came  first  to  determine  on  realization, 
under  the  instigation  of  Prussia,  and  then  for- 
got that  it  was  spirit  which  had  to  be  realized. 
Faust,  perceiving  that  pure  idea  did  not 
satisfy  the  deep  need  he  experienced  for  life, 
activity,  and  power,  sells  his  soul  in  order  to 
realize  its  aspirations. 


PREFACE  xi 

The  present  war  has  again  brought  into  the 
foreground  the  problem  of  the  relations  be- 
tween thought  and  action.  There  is  no 
problem  that  is  more  difficult,  perhaps,  though 
at  the  same  time  more  important  for  mankind . 

£MILE  BOUTROUX. 

PARIS, 

December  24,  1915. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

GERMAN  SCIENCE  -  i 

CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  9 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  GERMAN  THOUGHT  -  50 

WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY    -  90 

PATRIOTISM  AND  WAR  -  109 

FRANCE:  A  FORTRESS  -  118 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  FRANCE  -  124 

AFTER  THE  WAR  -  130 

THE  FRENCH  CONCEPTION  OF  NATIONALITY  -  161 


si: 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 


GERMAN  SCIENCE 

GERMAN  science  is — or,  rather,  was  until  quite 
recently — possessed  of  the  most  imposing 
authority  and  prestige.  Of  course  it  was 
acknowledged  that,  outside  of  Germany,  there 
might  exist  individuals  of  the  most  remark- 
able learning  and  intelligence,  even  men  of 
genius;  but  science  per  se,  impersonal  and 
superior,  wide-reaching  and  profound,  was 
generally  recognized  as  the  appanage  of 
Germany. 

In  vain  did  certain  observers  attempt  to 
show  that  the  many  qualities  of  German 
science  were  not  free  from  a  number  of  gaps 
and  imperfections;  that  the  Germans  excelled 
rather  in  the  mechanical  parts  of  scientific 
work  than  in  invention;  that  their  methods 
of  explanation  were  frequently  vague  and 
obscure;  that  the  practical  applications  of 
science  in  Germany  were  becoming  increas- 
ingly more  important  than  was  disinterested 


2  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

investigation:  the  reputation  they  had  ob- 
tained seemed  indestructible.  Germany  was 
the  born  teacher  of  the  universe. 

Will  the  world  in  future  regard  German 
science  with  bolder  and  more  untrammelled 
vision  ? 

When,  in  1877,  I  was  engaged  on  the  French 
translation  of  Zeller's  History  of  Greek  Philo- 
sophy, I  attempted  to  show  that  man  was 
left  out  of  account  in  that  profound  and 
learned  study,  one  of  the  most  original  mani- 
festations of  human  genius ;  that  the  theories 
of  Socrates,  Plato,  or  Aristotle,  were  gradually 
stripped  of  all  they  contained  which  was  per- 
sonal and  living,  and  were  reduced  to  abstract 
formulae,  subordinate  to  an  immanent  and 
necessary  dialectic.  Ever  since  that  date,  my 
impression  of  German  science  has  become  in- 
creasingly confirmed. 

The  general  character  of  scientific  work  in 
Germany  is  organization.  They  start  out  with 
the  idea  that  no  investigation  has  any  real 
value  unless  it  combines  the  two  qualities  of 
Vollstdndigkeit  and  Grundlichkeit — i.e.,  unless  it 
is  both  complete  and  well  grounded.  Now, 
such  investigation,  by  reason  of  the  variety  and 
number  of  qualifications  it  presupposes,  is 
generally  beyond  the  compass  of  a  single  in- 


GERMAN  SCIENCE  3 

dividual.  And  so  the  normal  form  of  scientific 
as  of  industrial  work  is  its  distribution  amongst 
many  and  divers  workers,  each  fitted  to  the 
special  function  that  falls  to  him. 

To  deny  or  to  depreciate  the  services  ren- 
dered by  such  an  organization  would  be 
absurd.  By  this  means  there  is  obtained,  as 
far  as  possible,  that  complete  documentation 
and  critical  examination  of  all  the  elements  of 
the  problem  so  indispensable  to  any  science 
that  would  be  far-reaching,  firmly  established 
and  practical. 

To  consider  this  organization,  however,  as 
containing  within  itself  all  the  elements  of 
scientific  research,  as  seems  to  be  done  ever 
more  and  more  in  Germany,  is  to  run  the  risk 
of  fettering,  rather  than  favouring,  the  activity 
of  the  intellect,  which  remains  in  any  case  the 
supreme  condition  of  this  research. 

Science  consists  of  two  elements:  materials 
and  the  ideas  which  transform  these  materials 
into  expressions  of  the  laws  of  nature.  The 
collective  efforts  of  specialists  are  well  fitted 
to  supply  materials,  but  will  they  be  adequate 
to  the  production  of  ideas?  The  theory 
implied  in  the  German  method  is  that  the 
idea  is  born  by  spontaneous  generation 
from  the  materials  themselves,  once  these 


4  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

latter  have  been  conveniently  collected  and 
arranged . 

This  doctrine  cannot  be  verified  by  the 
history  of  science.  In  reality,  the  idea  is  the 
offspring  of  the  human  intellect,  in  so  far  as 
this  latter  is  capable,  not  only  of  storing  up 
documents,  but  of  reacting,  in  original  fashion, 
in  response  to  these  documents.  For,  as 
Claude  Bernard  said,  the  idea  is  above  all  else 
a  hypothesis — i.e.,  a  view  of  things  which  trans- 
cends the  signification  of  crude  data. 

Now,  what  is  the  condition  best  suited,  not 
for  creating,  but  for  advancing  intellectual 
fertility  ? 

This  condition  consists  of  such  an  education 
of  the  mind  as  will  develop  in  it  the  sense  of 
reality,  the  faculty  of  generalizing  without  de- 
parting from  the  real.  The  scientist  attains  to 
this  education  by  meditating,  by  free  and 
solitary  concentration,  and  even  by  passing 
beyond  the  limits  of  his  speciality  to  hold  con- 
verse with  minds  devoted  to  different  speciali- 
ties, though  ready,  like  himself,  to  rise  superior 
to  their  studies  and  to  think  as  men,  whilst 
working  as  specialists. 

This  is  the  point  of  view  taught  by  Des- 
cartes, whose  Discours  de  la  Methode  begins 
with  the  words:  "  Le  bon  sens."  The  object 


GERMAN  SCIENCE  5 

of  this  famous  introduction  to  scientific  re- 
search is  to  prove  that  the  same  good  sense 
governs  both  the  practical  life  of  the  average 
man  and  the  loftiest  speculations  of  the  mathe- 
matician, the  physicist  and  the  philosopher; 
that  all  science  runs  the  risk  of  wandering 
astray  unless,  all  along  the  line,  it  is  con- 
stantly being  controlled  by  good  sense,  and 
that  this  good  sense,  the  link  connecting  our 
thought  with  reality,  is  the  true  source  of  in- 
vention and  judgment,  without  which  science 
is  no  more  than  an  object  of  instruction  and 
practical  application.  Descartes  adds  that 
good  sense  should  be  cultivated,  and  that  the 
right  means  of  developing  it  is  reflection, 
fostered  alike  by  the  study  of  science  and  the 
experience  of  life. 

German  science  makes  a  religion  of  com- 
petence, than  which,  in  a  sense,  nothing  is 
more  deserving  of  respect.  But  what  is  com- 
petence ?  And  can  the  man  who  deliberately 
eliminates  from  scientific  research  every  living 
and  human,  personal  and  rational  element,  and 
retains  only  materially  objective  data  and 
reasoning  that  excludes  all  intuition,  be  really 
competent  in  anything  whatsoever  ? 

The  critical  point  in  German  science  is  the 
transition  from  the  fact  to  the  idea.  To  the 


6  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

disciples  of  the  Greeks,  of  Galileo,  of  Descartes, 
of  Newton,  and  of  Claude  Bernard,  this  transi- 
tion is  nothing  else  than  a  restrained  play  of 
the  intellect,  which  progressively  deduces  the 
general  from  the  particular.  The  activity  of 
the  mind  is  already  an  element  in  the  scientific 
determination  of  the  fact ;  whilst,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  by  constantly  dwelling  upon  facts 
that  the  mind  rises  to  the  loftiest  ideas.  An 
incessant  contact  of  the  intellect  with  the 
facts,  and  at  the  same  time  the  incessant 
activity  of  the  intellect:  such  is  the  classic 
method.  And  such  a  method  the  Germans 
consider  too  simple,  too  human. 

They  began  by  seeking  ideas  in  a  transcen- 
dental world,  one  that  had  no  connection  with 
the  world  of  facts.  Thus,  from  the  primordial 
identity  A — A,  the  philosopher  Schelling  went 
so  far  as  to  deduce  the  Newtonian  law  of 
attraction  or  the  duality  of  electrical  fluids, 
and  actually  corrected  Nature  when  she  took 
upon  herself  to  disobey  him. 

As  this  method  had  to  be  given  up,  German 
science  replaced  it  by  identifying  the  idea  with 
the  totality  of  the  facts  included  in  one  and  the 
same  category. 

The  guiding  idea  of  history,  for  instance,  is 
that  which  results,  of  itself,  from  the  totality 


GERMAN  SCIENCE  7 

of  historical  facts.  Now,  we  know  that  this 
idea  is  nothing  else,  according  to  the  German 
scientists,  than  the  mission  assigned  to  Prussia 
by  the  universal  Mind  itself,  of  subjugating  the 
world  and  organizing  it  after  her  own  fashion. 

In  practice,  the  German  scientist,  who  con- 
siders that  he  alone  is  in  possession  of  all  the 
facts,  is  also  the  only  one  capable  of  determin- 
ing general  ideas.  And  as  the  whole  of  the 
facts  in  any  department  of  life  is  something 
altogether  chimerical,  the  German  scientist, 
alone  competent,  fills  up  the  gaps  as  he  pleases ; 
and  then,  regarding  his  definition  of  the  whole 
as  axiomatic,  reveals  to  the  world  the  meaning 
of  the  particular  events  in  question,  according 
to  the  needs  of  his  case. 

Nor  must  you  think  of  disputing  his  asser- 
tions, in  case  you  consider  them  strange. 
Appeal  to  such  or  such  a  fact,  and  the  German 
scientist  proves  to  you  that  he  knows  this 
same  fact  better  than  you  do  yourself,  but  that 
he  interprets  it  in  terms  of  the  whole;  appeal 
to  good  sense,  and  he  pities  you,  for  evidently 
you  do  not  know  that  the  word  scientific 
means — free  from  every  subjective  element ! 

Such  is  the  behaviour,  such  the  attitude, 
we  too  often  find  nowadays  amongst  German 
scientists. 


8  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Moliere  would  appear  to  have  pronounced 
the  verdict  which  humanity  will  give,  sooner 
or  later,  on  such  methods : 

"  Raisonner  est  1'emploi  de  toute  ma  maison, 
Et  le  raisonnement  en  bannit  la  raison." 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH 

CERTITUDE  and  truth :  are  not  the  terms  equi- 
valent ?  Do  we  not  say  almost  indifferently : 
I  am  certain,  this  is  certain,  that  is  true?  Can 
one  really  be  certain  of  anything  else  than 
truth?  And  does  not  truth,  once  perceived, 
produce  certitude  ?  What  is  it  but  philosophi- 
cal subtilty,  after  all,  to  regard  as  a  problem 
worthy  of  consideration  the  relation  between 
these  two  terms  ? 

Doubtless  there  have  been  times  when 
philosophers  have  created  fictitious  problems; 
they  would  like  to  understand  as  well  as  to 
know.  This  need,  really  a  very  difficult  one 
to  define,  torments  them  greatly.  Often,  too, 
the  concepts,  apparently  very  similar,  which 
they  bring  together  in  this  way,  are  like  statues 
which  express  no  astonishment  at  finding 
themselves  neighbours  in  a  museum;  whilst 
the  originals,  in  the  world  of  realities,  fight  and 
destroy  one  another.  Think  of  the  words: 
faith  and  belief;  they  appear  synonymous, 
9 


io  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

and  yet  those  who,  in  the  world  of  religion,  set 
faith  above  beliefs  cannot  act  in  concert  with 
those  who  regard  dogmas  as  more  important 
than  faith.  Who  knows  but  that  it  may  be 
the  same  with  the  words:  certitude  and  truth, 
which,  judging  by  the  dictionary,  would 
appear  to  differ  only  as  the  convex  and  the 
concave  side  of  one  and  the  same  curve  ? 


I. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  first  im- 
pulse of  human  beings  is  not  to  set  themselves 
this  problem.  In  ordinary  life  we  trust  to 
our  certitude,  of  which  we  are  quite  conscious ; 
and  we  admit — without  too  closely  asking  our- 
selves if  we  have  the  right — that  to  any  firm 
conviction  there  corresponds  the  possession  of 
some  truth.  As  proof  of  an  affirmation  we 
often  hear  such  an  argument  as — I  am  inti- 
mately persuaded,  I  am  firmly  convinced,  that 
the  thing  is  so.  In  Germany  more  particu- 
larly we  are  continually  hearing  in  ordinary 
conversation  the  formula:  Ich  bin  jest  ilber- 
zeugt. 

And  yet  it  happens  that  equally  energetic 
affirmations  may,  in  fact,  be  contradictory, 
and  consequently  cause  disputes.  Then  we 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  11 

have  men  endeavouring  to  justify  their  certi- 
tude by  arguments  less  personal  than  their 
simple  conviction:  they  endeavour  to  prove 
that  it  is  based  on  truth.  In  practical  life, 
more  especially  in  the  moral  order  of  things, 
it  is  frequently  very  difficult  to  induce  our  op- 
ponent to  accept  our  reasons.  Beset  by  argu- 
ments from  which  he  cannot  escape,  and 
reduced  to  silence,  he  will  often  persist  in  his 
opinion,  not  always  from  obstinacy,  but  be- 
cause he  believes,  in  good  faith,  that  the  objec- 
tions brought  against  him  carry  no  weight. 

Belief  in  the  distinctive  value  of  conviction 
seems  to  have  been  widespread  during  the  last 
century,  at  a  time  when  romanticism  exalted 
the  interior  life,  the  faith  in  intuition,  as  being 
more  certain  and  penetrating  than  demonstra- 
tion. A  man  was  not  afraid,  in  those  days,  of 
being  the  only  one  of  his  opinion.  He  re- 
garded it  rather  as  a  sign  of  superiority,  and 
almost  as  a  duty,  to  think  for  himself,  after 
his  own  fashion,  and  differently  from  others. 
He  was  proud  of  having  convictions  of  his  own, 
and  prided  himself  on  holding  to  them,  what- 
ever revolutions  might  take  place  in  society. 
He  also  regarded  it  as  quite  normal  that  the 
utmost  diversity  should  govern  the  opinions  of 
men,  recognizing  the  right  of  each  to  think 


12  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

for  himself  and  defend  his  ideas  both  with  the 
written  and  with  the  spoken  word. 

Humanity,  however,  cannot  be  content  with 
a  dilettante  kind  of  life.  The  doctrine  of  in- 
dividual conviction  which  gives  rise  to  bril- 
liant oratorical  jousts  in  lecture-hall  or  draw- 
ing-room is  expressed  in  real  life  by  formidable 
struggles,  by  revolutions  and  upheavals  of  all 
kinds.  Besides,  should  we  not  be  forsaking 
the  very  idea  of  truth  were  we  to  regard  an 
opinion  as  legitimate  simply  because  it  refuses 
to  give  way  before  contrary  opinions  ? 

In  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century 
a  period  of  individualism  was  followed  by  a 
reaction  in  favour  of  unity,  of  the  submission 
of  the  human  mind  and  conscience  to  imper- 
sonal truth.  Then,  as  the  highest  expression 
of  this  truth,  came  science,  whose  progressive 
and  triumphant  march,  more  than  any  other 
intellectual  phenomenon,  had  imposed  re- 
spect and  submission  on  the  minds  of  men. 
In  it  and  it  alone  appeared  to  dwell  the  neces- 
sary and  adequate  condition  of  certitude,  of 
mental  coherence,  of  harmony  between  mind 
and  heart.  There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that 
the  proposition  2+2  =  4  is  admitted  by  all  men 
alike.  When  humanity  comes  into  possession 
of  like  truths  in  everything,  then  individual 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  13 

certitude  will  infallibly  give  place  to  a  common, 
a  universally  identical  certitude. 

This  argument  seemed  to  defy  contradic- 
tion: all  the  same,  events  did  not  confirm  it. 
In  the  domain  of  science,  and  even  in  mathe- 
matics, it  has  not  been  proved  that  feeling  is 
wholly  suppressed  by  what  is  called  objective 
truth.  Chiefly  in  the  practical  order  of  things, 
however,  an  appeal  to  science  does  not  suffice 
to  bring  men  into  a  state  of  harmony.  It 
is  not  only  between  the  learned  and  the 
ignorant,  it  is  between  the  learned  who  study 
the  same  science,  who  are  brought  up  in  the 
same  schools  and  practise  the  same  methods, 
that  an  understanding  seems  impossible,  when 
we  are  dealing  with  moral,  social  and  religious 
questions.  And,  finally,  men  of  science,  in 
their  convictions,  fall  back  like  other  men 
upon  personal  certitude,  which  has  its  source 
in  other  than  scientific  evidence.  It  is  im- 
possible to  maintain  that  the  present  age,  so 
frequently  called  the  age  of  science,  is  char- 
acterized by  a  perfect  and  universal  harmony 
of  mind  and  will. 

Thus  we  are  compelled  to  recognize  that 
truth  and  certitude  are  less  closely  connected 
than  would  at  first  sight  appear.  Persistently 
to  seek  for  certitude  is  not  always  a  good  way 


i4  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

of  attaining  to  truth.  The  need  of  certitude 
is  impatient ;  it  tends  towards  a  mental  state 
that  is  absolute  and  unshakable,  that  is  felt 
to  be  personal  and  even  meritorious.  Truth, 
however,  as  a  rule,  is  very  difficult  to  lay 
hold  upon.  It  can  be  won  only  by  degrees, 
partially  and  provisionally.  So  that  if  we  are 
determined  to  acquire  certitude  at  whatever 
cost,  we  are  frequently  compelled  to  regard  as 
known  and  proved  that  which  in  reality  is 
not  so.  Conversely,  the  man  who,  above  all 
else,  seeks  after  truth,  the  characteristic  of 
which  is  that  it  exists  per  se  and  is  imperative 
on  all  minds  alike,  is  led  to  repress  his  indi- 
vidual desires  and  impressions  and  be  content 
with  an  adhesion  somewrhat  abstract  and  im- 
personal, always  imperfect  and  modifiable, 
bearing  upon  objects  far  removed  from  those 
that  interest  our  human  life;  and  such  an 
adhesion  has  but  a  slight  resemblance  to  what 
we  call  conviction  and  certitude. 

Truth  and  certitude,  then,  are  really  two 
things,  not  one  thing  under  two  aspects.  And 
it  is  incumbent  upon  the  philosopher  to  find 
out  if  this  duality  is  radical  and  irreducible, 
or  if  these  two  terms,  in  spite  of  their  differ- 
ences, are  inseparable  from  each  other  and 
capable  of  harmonious  combination. 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH          15 

II. 

One  solution  of  the  problem  which  seems  to 
result  from  the  critical  study  to  which  the 
human  mind  has  devoted  itself  in  modern 
times  is  dualism,  of  which  Kant  has  given 
a  remarkably  clear  and  profound  formula. 
From  this  point  of  view,  certitude  and  truth 
are  radically  distinct  from  each  other.  They 
depend  on  two  faculties  which  seem  to  be  in 
juxtaposition,  though  really  they  move  in  two 
different  worlds:  intellect  and  will. 

Intellect  deals  with  the  world  of  phenomena, 
with  the  objects  presented  to  us  in  time  or 
space.  It  determines  the  constant  and  uni- 
versal relations  between  these  objects.  Thus 
it  acquires  a  sum  total  of  propositions  wrhich 
express  the  permanent  groundwork  of  the 
things  given,  and  which  thereby  are  impera- 
tive on  the  minds  of  all  without  any  possi- 
bility of  dispute.  This  sum  total  of  prop- 
ositions corresponds  to  what  men  mean  by 
truth . 

The  world,  however,  of  which  this  truth  is 
the  essence,  does  not  exhaust  the  real  and  the 
possible.  If  it  supplies  the  human  mind  with 
an  object  proportionate  to  its  power,  it  does 
not  satisfy  the  will,  whose  ambition  it  is  to 


1 6  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

realize  an  order  of  things  of  a  moral  nature 
— i.e.,  one  based  on  duty  and  liberty.  The 
world  of  intellect,  which  implies  wholly  me- 
chanical and  geometrically  necessary  laws, 
excludes  the  kind  of  beings  claimed  by  the 
will.  The  latter,  then,  will  turn  to  another 
world ;  or  rather,  since  it  finds  that  it  does  not 
possess  the  power  to  see  a  suprasensible 
world,  it  will  draw  from  itself,  if  not  intuitions, 
at  all  events  certitudes  regarding  a  world 
which  is  not,  but  which  ought  to  be,  which 
deserves  to  be  and  which  will  be  if  the  will 
itself  is  sincere  and  energetic  enough  to  realize 
it.  In  this  creation  there  is  no  given  truth, 
preceding  and  determining  certitude.  The 
latter  is  primary,  like  the  will,  of  which  it  is 
the  perfect  form.  It  is  the  cause  of  duty  and 
freedom,  of  God  and  the  moral  order.  I  will 
freedom,  said  Kant,  therefore  I  will  duty,  the 
existence  of  God,  immortality.  It  concerns 
me  but  little  that  the  world  of  sense  offers  no 
place  for  these  things ;  my  will  opens  or  creates 
for  me  quite  another  world  which  my  senses 
cannot  cognize,  though  they  cannot  dispute 
its  reality. 

Thus  appears  to  be  justified  the  juxtaposi- 
tion, apart  from  the  interaction,  of  certitude 
and  truth. 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  17 

A  clear  and  convenient  system,  to  which, 
in  practice,  appeal  is  made  more  frequently 
than  one  would  think,  though  a  close  examina- 
tion shows  that  it  offers  serious  difficulties. 

It  would  undoubtedly  be  absurd  to  dispute 
the  highly  moral  character  of  Kant's  philo- 
sophy.    The  author  of  the  Critique  of  Practi- 
cal Reason  and  of  the  Metaphysics  of  Ethics 
strongly   advocates    respect    for   the    human 
person  and  the  subordination  of  instinct  to 
reason.     But  then,  as  Edward  Caird,  Master 
of  Balliol,  has  shown,  Kant  did  not  regard 
dualism  as  the  final  word  of  philosophy.     To 
his  mind,  all  separation  was  the  prelude  of  a 
reunion,  which  he  intended  to  effect   by  ex- 
amining more  profoundly  the  nature  of  things. 
Still,    investigations    of    the    type    of    the 
Critique  of  the  Judgment  are  abstruse,  and  we 
prefer   to    keep   to   the  initial   and   dualistic 
formulae  of  the  system. 

Now,  the  notion  of  duty  as  a  purely  formal 
categorical  imperative — i.e.,  void  of  all  content 
and  matter — is  singularly  dangerous  of  applica- 
tion. In  real  life  one  cannot  be  satisfied  with 
a  purely  formal  act  of  willing:  something 
must  necessarily  be  willed,  some  matter  must 
be  fitted  into  this  empty  mould.  The  cate- 
gorical imperative,  however,  remains  dumb 


1 8  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

when  questioned  as  to  what  it  commands. 
Consequently  we  are  led  to  seek,  not  in  the 
world  of  will,  but  in  the  other,  the  visible 
world,  the  only  one  we  are  able  to  cognize,  for 
the  matter  indispensable  to  the  attainment  of 
a  real  act.  The  two  worlds,  however,  the 
physical  and  the  moral,  are  by  hypothesis 
wholly  heterogeneous  and  unconcerned  with 
each  other.  Hence  we  arrive  at  the  follow- 
ing conclusion :  any  act,  provided  it  is  per- 
formed under  the  idea  of  duty,  may  assume  a 
moral  character.  No  morality  or  immorality 
could  be  attributed  to  an  act  considered  in  its 
visible  aspect ;  only  the  form  of  will  in  which 
we  clothe  it  makes  it  morally  praiseworthy  or 
blamable. 

Take,  for  instance,  some  action  which  ordin- 
ary morality  regards  as  cruel,  such  as  the 
massacre,  in  war,  of  children,  women  and  old 
men.  If  this  cruelty  is  purely  animal,  it  is 
something  indifferent.  If  it  is  undisciplined, 
it  is  culpable,  in  so  far  as  it  is  a  violation  of 
discipline.  And  if  it  has  been  ordered  by  law- 
ful authority,  it  is  disciplined  cruelty,  eine 
zuchtmdssige  Grausamkeit,  a  right  and  meritori- 
ous action.  The  philosopher  himself  or  the 
sternest  of  moralists  will  give  this  verdict,  for 
in  ethics  it  is  certitude  alone  that  constitutes 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  19 

truth,  and  here  the  sole  object  of  certitude  is 
the  form  of  the  action  to  the  exclusion  of  its 
matter. 

Such  is  the  disastrous  consequence  of  a  rad- 
ical separation  between  certitude  and  truth. 
Nor  is  the  notion  of  truth  less  gravely  affected. 
As  all  modes  of  existence  bearing  on  the  will 
are  here  eliminated  from  the  world  of  objec- 
tive truth,  the  visible  world  in  which  we  live, 
nature,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word, 
would  seem  to  have  nothing  whatever  to  do 
with  ethics.  The  moral  form  is  no  more  than 
a  garment  de  luxe,  which,  when  opportunity 
offers,  is  superimposed  from  without.  As  the 
world  of  the  intellect  and  of  the  natural  laws, 
in  this  dualistic  doctrine,  is  self-sufficient  and 
impervious  to  the  world  of  will,  it  would  be 
absurd  to  require  that  man,  in  so  far  as  he 
forms  part  of  the  visible  world,  should  practise 
anything  else  than  obedience  to  the  laws 
governing  this  world.  Hence  we  are  led  to 
divide  human  life  into  two  parts.  On  the  one 
hand,  it  is  a  moral  life,  indifferent  to  the  promp- 
tings of  nature,  or  rather  arbitrarily  exalting 
them  into  moral  acts,  without  considering  their 
intrinsic  character.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
is  a  wholly  physical  existence,  to  which  no 
moral  qualification  could  be  applied,  and  which 


20  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

is  just  as  legitimate  as  the  first.  If,  then,  a  man 
happens  to  lack  the  grace  necessary  to  pierce 
into  the  transcendental  world  of  certitude  and 
the  categorical  imperative,  he  is  no  more  than 
a  brute,  devoid  of  will,  of  dignity  and  of  the 
sense  of  duty,  an  inert  and  irresponsible  in- 
strument of  mechanical  forces.  And  as  moral 
effort,  indeed,  cannot  be  anything  else  than 
intermittent,  the  man  finds  himself  con- 
demned, as  he  passes  alternately  from  the 
realm  of  duty  into  that  of  nature,  to  fluctuate 
between  systematic  obedience  to  a  wholly 
formal  law  and  the  unbridled  violence  of  his 
coarsest  instincts  and  appetites.  Fanaticism, 
or  the  unrestrained  violence  of  nature:  such 
is  the  alternative. 

The  radical  distinction,  then,  between  certi- 
tude and  truth  is  inadmissible.  Each  finds 
itself  incapable  of  being  realized  in  its  essence. 
Dualism,  moreover,  clashes  with  the  natural 
tendency  of  the  spirit  towards  unity.  More 
especially  in  Germany  is  the  investigation  of 
a  point  of  view  from  which  it  is  possible  to 
obtain  a  synthetic  conception  of  the  totality 
of  things  generally  regarded  as  the  mark  of 
the  philosophic  spirit.  This  is  why  numerous 
attempts  have  been  made  in  that  country  to 
reduce  to  unity  these  two  principles,  which 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  21 

cannot  be  separated  without  compromising 
both. 

The  strictest  mode  of  reduction  consists  in 
including  one  of  the  two  terms  in  the  other: 
certitude  in  truth,  or  truth  in  certitude — i.e., 
will  in  intellect  or  intellect  in  will. 

The  evolution  of  German  philosophy,  from 
Kant  to  Nietzsche,  represents  in  a  remarkable 
way  this  dual  effort  of  reduction. 

Hegel's  philosophy  is  perhaps  the  culmina- 
ting point  of  thought,  developed  in  the  former 
of  these  two  meanings,  the  intellectualist. 
Here  the  concept  of  truth  and  rationality  is 
extended  ad  infinitum,  as  it  were,  by  means  of 
a  transcendent  logic,  in  such  a  way  as  to  em- 
brace the  whole  of  the  real  and  the  whole  of 
the  possible.  The  individual,  the  free,  the 
contingent,  and  even  chance  are  not  denied, 
but  are  considered  as  instruments,  which  dis- 
appear and  fall  back  into  a  state  of  nonentity 
once  they  have  played  their  part  in  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  absolute. 

In  this  system,  science  is  the  one  prominent 
form  of  all  that  is.  Not  only  does  everything 
depend  on  science ;  this  latter  is,  at  bottom,  the 
first  being  and  the  principle  of  things.  To 
enter  into  possession  of  science  is,  so  to  speak, 
to  occupy  the  place  of  God  himself  in  the 
universe. 


22  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Unless  I  am  mistaken,  something  of  this  con- 
ception of  truth  and  science  is  met  with  in 
the  idea  represented  by  the  Academy  of 
Sciences  of  Berlin.  It  is  called  Akademie  der 
Wissenschaften  and  claims  to  embrace  the 
essence  of  art  and  literature  as  well  as  of  the 
real  sciences ;  life  and  action,  as  well  as  specu- 
lation and  theory.  Since  its  motto  is,"  Apart 
from  science  there  is  nothing  solid  or  sub- 
stantial," such  an  institution  as  the  French 
Academy,  for  instance,  whose  function  it  is 
to  work  at  the  preservation  and  improvement 
of  our  language,  confining  its  activities  to  the 
tactful  discernment  of  the  use  of  the  language 
by  well-bred  people,  would  be  valueless  in  its 
eyes ;  only  the  opinion  of  specialists  can,  and 
necessarily  does,  impose  respect.  The  capital 
distinction  we  set  up  between  science  and 
literature,  between  the  mathematical  and  the 
intuitive  mind,  is  here  reduced  to  a  simple 
specific  difference.  The  genus  science,  Wissen- 
schaft,  is  subdivided  into  two  species :  the 
sciences  of  nature,  or  physical  and  mathemati- 
cal sciences;  and  the  sciences  of  culture,  or 
philosophical  and  historical  sciences. 

What  are  we  to  think  of  such  a  reduction  of 
will  to  intellect? 

Undoubtedly  everything,  in  a  sense,  may 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  23 

be  an  object  of  science.  The  human  mind 
actually  taxes  its  ingenuity  in  inventing 
methods  which  will  enable  it  to  subject  to 
scientific  investigation  the  very  things  which, 
from  their  nature,  would  seem  as  though  they 
must  escape  such  investigation.  A  science, 
however  determined  to  see  things  as  they  are 
and  not  as  it  desires  to  depict  them,  should  be 
moulded  on  reality,  and  not  impose  on  this 
latter  its  own  rules.  In  setting  itself  up  as  a 
sole  and  necessary  model  of  all  that  is,  in 
decreeing  that  the  formulae  of  intelligibilit}' 
are  the  principles  of  being,  that  there  is  no 
difference  between  the  scientifically  rational 
and  the  real,  and  that  the  former  is  the 
measure  of  the  latter,  science  declares  itself 
unable  faithfully  to  explain  and  grasp  such 
parts  or  aspects  of  reality  as  do  not  come 
within  its  scope. 

Now,  the  notions  which  play  a  part  in  our 
life  as  human  beings  include  those  of  indi- 
viduality, free  will,  real  and  effectual  action. 
We  conceive  of  human  events,  undoubtedly, 
as  connected  with  one  another  and  dependent 
on  the  sum  total  of  natural  phenomena,  but 
also  as  susceptible  of  manifesting  personal 
initiative,  thought  and  effort,  and  as  therefore 
possessed  of  a  certain  value  and  influence. 


24  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

The  intellectualist  system  leaves  nothing  re- 
maining of  this  element  of  the  real.     It  sees 
only   a   crude   phenomenon   which   must    be 
properly  explained,  and  its  method  of  explana- 
tion consists  in  proving  that  this  phenomenon 
is  pure  illusion.     In  this  system,  the  science 
of  culture,  as  well  as  that  of  nature,  reduces 
the  individual  to  the  universal,  the  contingent 
to  the  necessary.     From  this  standpoint,  the 
individual  can  be  no  more  than  an  appearance, 
devoid  of  reality.     The  degree  of  rationality, 
perfection  and  reality  of  a  being  is  in  inverse 
ratio  to  the  amount  of  individuality  it  either 
contains  or  seems  to  contain. 

True  being,  thus  crippled  by  science,  might 
well  say  to  this  latter  what  Goethe's  Faust 
said  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Earth : 

"  Du  gleichst  dem  Geist,  den  du  begreifst, 
Nicht  mir  !" 

(Thou  art  the  peer  of  that  spirit  thou  comprehendest, 
Not  of  me  !) 

Science,  nevertheless,  in  its  attempt  to  com- 
prise the  totality  of  being,  has  had  its  powers 
widened  and  diversified.  This  very  widening 
is  a  source  of  weakness.  In  vain  does  it  strive 
to  maintain  on  equal  terms  two  types  of 
science:  the  mathematico-physical  and  the 
historical.  This  is  a  quite  natural  distinction 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  25 

when  science  does  not  claim  to  see  things  as 
they  are  in  themselves  and  forgoes  all  claim 
to  lord  it  over  them.  Science,  then,  is  like  a 
familiar  language  into  which  we  are  trans- 
lating something  written  in  a  foreign  one. 
If  difficulties  are  encountered,  we  try  to  make 
our  own  language  more  flexible  so  as  to  model 
the  translation  after  the  text;  we  do  not 
modify  the  text  so  as  to  make  it  easier  to 
translate.  But  if  science  is  regarded  as  an 
absolute  entity  whose  laws  are  imperative 
upon  reality,  that  is  quite  a  different  matter. 
Depending  on  itself  alone,  it  aims  solely  at 
attaining  to  the  most  logical  and  coherent 
form  possible.  Now,  the  fundamental  idea  of 
science  is  the  reduction  of  the  heterogeneous 
to  the  homogeneous,  of  the  divergent  to  the 
identical.  But  if,  from  this  point  of  view,  we 
compare  together  the  mathematico-physical 
type  of  scientific  knowledge  and  the  historical 
type,  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  the  latter  is 
for  more  imperfect  than  the  former,  far  less 
conformable  to  the  scientific  ideal.  History 
considers  facts  which  are  never  reproduced 
without  some  modification,  a.Tra.%  yiyvopeva ; 
at  most  it  sets  up  between  these  facts  some 
particular  relations  of  causality,  without  being 
able  to  claim  that  it  has  discovered  those 


26  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

general  relations  which  are  called  laws. 
Hence  it  follows  that,  from  the  standpoint  of 
an  absolute  science,  the  historical  form  of 
science  can  only  be  regarded  as  provisional, 
and  that  the  physico-mathematical  sciences 
alone  are  susceptible  of  perfection.  The  his- 
torical sciences,  therefore,  cannot  claim  to  re- 
tain their  distinctive  character  indefinitely; 
sooner  or  later  they  must  be  included  in  the 
physical  sciences. 

What  does  this  mean  but  that  the  degree  of 
reality  guaranteed  to  the  moral  world  by  the 
supposed  irreducibility  of  history  to  physics 
disappears  in  a  philosophy  which  develops  to 
the  uttermost  the  doctrine  of  science  as  a 
primary  and  absolute  entity?  History,  as  a 
radically  distinct  science,  was  the  affirmation 
of  the  reality  of  spirit,  at  least  as  a  finality,  a 
possible  march  towards  the  ideal.  The  re- 
ducibility  of  history  to  physics  means  that 
finality  is  declared  illusory,  that  matter  with 
its  purely  mechanical  determinism  is  an- 
nounced as  the  only  true  reality  existing  in 
the  universe. 

Such  is  the  final  word  of  the  philosophy 
whose  self-appointed  task  is  to  reduce  certi- 
tude to  truth,  will  to  intellect,  ethics  to 
science,  the  subjective  to  the  objective.  It 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  27 

ends  in  simply  doing  away  with  everything 
connected  with  such  notions  as  individuality, 
liberty,  personality,  spirit,  consciousness,  soul, 
beauty,  morality;  it  leaves  remaining  only  a 
world  that  is  strictly  material. 

In  his  dialogue  Philebus,  Plato  long  ago 
warned  us  how  impossible  it  was  to  accept 
the  principles  of  physics  as  a  fitting  explana- 
tion of  the  real  world.  "  To  understand  our 
universe,"  he  said,  "  it  is  not  sufficient  to  re- 
gard it  as  something  infinite  and  something 
finite — i.e.,  matter  and  number;  there  is  also 
needed  the  recognition  of  the  existence  of  a 
cause  which  is  the  governing  factor  in  its 
ordering.  And  this  cause  must  be  intelligent 
and  wise,  consequently  living  and  dowered 
with  a  soul.  Therefore  thou  mayst  con- 
fidently affirm  that,  in  Jupiter's  nature  qua 
cause,  there  dwells  a  royal  soul." 

In  other  terms,  truth,  if  it  is  to  possess  that 
excellence  we  have  every  right  to  attribute 
to  it,  must  not  be  conceived  of  as  a  thing,  a 
purely  objective  reality,  wherein  all  life  and 
consciousness  would  become  lost.  The  sub- 
jective, also,  is  a  principle.  Truth  wills  to  be 
grasped,  comprehended  and  affirmed  by  a 
living  spirit  which  endeavours  to  regulate  its 
action  by  that  of  the  first  being  itself.  To 


28  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

know  is  to  unite  oneself  in  heart  and  thought 
with  the  creator. 

It  is  therefore  useless  to  try  to  overcome 
the  dualism  of  intellect  and  will  by  reducing 
will  to  intellect.  But  we  might  succeed 
better  in  removing  the  antimony  by  attempt- 
ing to  reduce  truth  to  certitude,  intellect  to 
will.  This  path,  too,  has  been  pursued  by 
eminent  philosophers,  mainly  Germans,  like 
Fichte,  who  regards  will  as  the  root  of  the  not- 
self  as  well  as  of  the  self,  of  perception  as 
well  as  of  effort;  Schopenhauer,  who  sees  in 
the  world  as  idea  an  illusion  and  a  hindrance, 
from  which  the  world  as  will,  which  is  its 
principle,  tends  to  free  itself;  Nietzsche,  who 
seeks  the  ideal  form  of  existence  in  an  omni- 
potent will,  superior  to  all  law. 

This  doctrine  may  be  interpreted  broadly, 
will  being  placed  in  the  foreground,  since  it  is 
the  most  characteristic  element  of  our  con- 
scious life.  Speaking  generally,  then,  it  is 
interior  activity,  die  Innerlichkeit,  as  German 
philosophers  say,  that  is  conceived  as  alone 
possessing  worth  and  efficacy  of  its  own. 
From  it  alone  spring  certitude,  being,  and 
truth  itself.  The  objective  does  not  exist  per 
se:  it  is  the  form  with  which  intellect  clothes  the 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  29 

subjective,  so  as  to  construct  for  itself  a  mirror 
wherein  its  activity  may  be  reflected  upon 
itself  in  such  a  way  as  to  exist  not  only  in  but 
for  itself.  It  is  reduced  to  a  system  of  symbols 
which,  to  acquire  their  true  significance,  must 
be  rethought  by  a  living  intellect,  and  by  it 
retranslated  into  life,  action  and  will.  Ac- 
cording to  this  view,  certitude  is  the  mother  of 
truth.  The  latter  is  but  the  intellectual  for- 
mula of  the  will's  fixed  resolve  to  affirm  itself. 

A  profound  doctrine,  assuredly,  and  one 
calculated  to  keep  in  constant  tension  the 
spring  of  the  will.  In  the  case  of  a  Fichte, 
truth  is  not  a  fruit  hanging  from  the  tree  of 
science  and  ready  to  be  plucked.  We  must 
create  it  within  ourselves,  as  it  were,  by  per- 
sonal effort.  Only  by  willing  can  we  think; 
the  very  rule  of  our  thoughts  is  an  act  of  will. 
Im  Anfang  war  die  Tat. 

What  is  the  value  of  this  doctrine? 

It  does  not  really  profess  to  despise  the 
fixed  and  determined  ideas  by  which  the  mind 
seeks  to  understand  the  objective,  uniform 
and  stable  side  of  the  universe.  Fichte  him- 
self wrote :  "  Die  Formel  ist  die  grosste  Wohltat 
fur  den  Menschen  "  (A  formula  is  the  greatest 
of  benefits  for  mankind).  All  determinate 
expression  of  truth,  however,  in  this  system, 


30  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

is  a  simple  stage  which  the  spirit  strives  to 
transcend,  in  an  endeavour  to  consider  truth 
immediately  at  its  source.  Truth  is  strictly 
itself  only  within  the  untrammelled  will  in 
which  it  creates  itself.  When  Goethe's  Meph- 
istopheles,  in  his  pact  with  Faust,  asks  him 
for  a  written  and  signed  engagement,  Faust 
replies : 

"  Auch  was  Geschriebnes  f orders!  du,  Pedant  ? 
Hast    du    noch    keinen    Mann,    nicht    Mannes-Wort 

gekannt  ?  .  .  . 
Das  Wort  erstirbt  schon  in  der  Feder." 

(What !  thou  also  requirest  something  written,  pedant  ? 
Hast  thou  never  had  dealings  with  a  man,  a  man's 
word  ?  .  .  .  No  sooner  does  the  word  pass  into  the 
pen  than  it  expires.) 

This  theory  of  Faust  is  but  the  application 
of  the  doctrine  of  interiority.  Here  the 
visible,  tangible,  definite  expression  of  the 
voluntary  act  is  conceived  as  of  value  only  in 
the  eyes  of  pedants  and  dishonourable  people. 
A  man  of  superior  mind  despises  and  tears 
up  the  written  engagements  he  himself  has 
signed :  he  expects  his  word  to  be  sufficient. 

A  bold  claim,  assuredly  !  Pascal  would 
have  regarded  it  as  beyond  the  power  of  any 
human  being;  it  is  dangerous  for  men,  he  said, 
to  insist  on  playing  the  angel :  they  risk  falling 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  31 

lower  than  humanity  itself.  The  written 
formula  is  clear,  lasting  and  fixed,  capable  of 
being  interpreted  in  the  same  way  by  every- 
body. But  however  strong  and  sincere,  how- 
ever clear  be  the  innermost  decision  of  the  will 
in  the  eyes  of  the  one  who  has  made  that  de- 
cision, it  could  manifest  these  characteristics 
to  others  only  if  men  were  capable  of  direct 
spiritual  communication  with  one  another. 
As  such  mystic  communication  cannot  be 
realized  in  this  world  of  ours,  those  men  who 
are  recommended  not  to  take  written  engage- 
ments seriously  are  incapable  of  gauging  the 
meaning  and  value  of  the  promise  given  to 
them.  In  practice,  an  engagement  made  by 
a  man  who  refuses  to  bind  himself  is  regarded 
as  a  sign  that  he  despises  all  engagements. 

True,  the  supreme  value  of  sincerity  will  be 
alleged ;  but,  then,  there  are  two  ways  of  being 
sincere.  The  man  who  speaks  and  acts  in 
conformity  with  his  caprice,  his  passion,  or  his 
arbitrary  will,  believes  himself  to  be  sincere 
though  he  is  not  so  in  reality,  because  he  has 
neglected  to  ask  himself  if  this  superficial  will 
conforms  with  the  universal  law  which  his  in- 
most conscience  makes  imperative  upon  him. 
There  is  no  effective  sincerity  apart  from  an 
effort  to  bring  oneself  into  harmony  with  one's 


32  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

best  self,  with  that  which  bends  the  knee  to 
truth  alone. 

However  subtle  be  the  reasonings  employed 
to  advocate  the  doctrine  of  interiority  as  the 
sole  principle  of  thought  and  action,  it  will 
never  succeed  in  coming  within  the  category 
of  truth.  This  latter  possesses  a  determinate- 
ness  and  a  fixity,  a  complete  and  finite  char- 
acter and  a  distinctive  existence,  which  are  to 
be  met  with  neither  in  the  symbols  by  which 
intellect  attempts  to  picture  to  itself  the  action 
of  will,  nor  in  this  will  itself. 

The  truth,  then,  offered  us  by  this  doctrine 
is  not  the  truth  which  men  respect  and  wor- 
ship. That  deeply  hidden  and  interior  will 
which,  from  what  we  are  told,  seems  to  be 
its  source,  is  as  obscure  as  it  is  profound.  It  is 
something  essentially  mysterious,  indefinable, 
unknowable.  There  is  nothing  in  common 
between  this  will  and  the  formulae  by  which 
we  attempt  to  picture  it  ourselves.  Where 
would  be  the  resemblance  in  a  portrait  if  the 
original  had  neither  form  nor  colour  ? 

In  practice,  then,  the  manner  in  which  the 
interior  life  of  the  spirit  will  be  expressed 
is  immaterial.  Works  are  nothing;  faith  is 
everything.  A  maxim  is  good  and  true  if  it 
is  accepted  with  a  sense  of  conviction,  if  the 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  33 

will  recognizes  in  it  its  own  tendency.  All 
the  rules  of  the  true,  the  good,  and  the  beauti- 
ful which  classic  reason  has  attempted  to  set 
up  are  ineffectual.  These  rules,  in  the  philo- 
sophy of  interiority,  are  but  the  substitution 
of  the  letter  for  the  spirit,  of  inertia  for  liberty, 
of  death  for  life.  The  original  creation  alone, 
drawing  its  principle  from  the  absolute  will 
is  beautiful  and  productive.  All  works  that 
are  original  and  not  imitative,  however  strange, 
are  true  and  worthy  to  be  set  up  for  the  ad- 
miration of  men ;  but  every  work  to  the  pro- 
duction of  which  the  observance  of  some  rule 
has  contributed  is,  for  that  very  reason,  shallow 
and  lifeless. 

Thus  deformed  and  debased  is  the  concept  of 
truth,  in  the  doctrine  which  reduces  intellect 
to  will  by  making  of  the  former  the  principle 
of  fixed  and  objective  forms,  and  of  the  latter 
the  principle  of  the  interior  life.  But  we  may 
inquire  if  this  doctrine  is  really  a  term  at 
which  the  philosopher's  effort  at  reduction 
can  stop. 

Will,  in  this  system,  is  not  conceived  in  any 
strict  fashion.  It  is  contrasted  with  intellect, 
conceived  as  the  form  of  static  and  motionless 
order;  it  vaguely  contains  within  itself,  how- 
ever, a  certain  tendency  or  law  of  develop- 

3 


34  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

ment  which  determines  its  movement  and 
causes  it  to  become  objective  in  a  certain  way. 
Fichte  regarded  will  as  containing  a  transcen- 
dental logic  and  a  rhythmic  progress  which 
were  to  supply  it  with  a  body.  It  is  from  this 
ill-defined  blend  of  will  and  intellect  that 
there  results  the  strange  property,  inherent  in 
Fichtean  liberty,  of  necessarily  realizing  and 
developing  oneself  in  a  certain  way.  The 
reduction  of  the  intellectual  to  the  voluntary, 
however,  is  but  incompletely  effected  if  will, 
which  we  take  as  principle,  remains  in  some 
way  intellect.  Man's  natural  taste  for  clarity 
and  simplicity,  the  general  tendency  of  doc- 
trines to  reveal,  more  and  more  distinctly, 
their  original  principle,  have  led  the  philo- 
sophy of  interiority  to  assume  a  simpler  and 
more  distinct  form  which,  in  truth,  Fichte 
himself  would  not  have  recognized. 

In  the  doctrine  of  interiority,  will  bears 
within  itself  a  law  of  development  which,  of 
itself,  produces  intellect,  and  which,  indeed, 
is  also  something  intellectual.  A  genuine 
will  should  be  free  from  this  foreign  element. 
Strictly  speaking,  it  should  will  only  itself, 
set  itself  up  as  alone  absolute  and  supreme 
being,  and  conceive  all  other  beings  as  instru- 
ments of  its  own  activity.  Now,  thus  emanci- 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  35 

pated  and  free  to  become,  as  fully  as  possible, 
what  it  virtually  is,  it  can  offer  itself  but  one 
object:  power.  The  true  voluntarist  system 
is  that  which  reduces  both  intellect  and  the 
so-called  moral  will  to  the  will  turned  wholly 
towards  itself — i.e.,  towards  force  and  nothing 
else. 

This  is  the  final  expression  of  the  system 
which  identifies  truth  with  certitude.  Against 
this  doctrine  there  is  no  longer  any  valid  argu- 
ment. A  certitude  which  admits  no  other 
standard  of  value  than  force  is,  by  its  very 
definition,  not  amenable  to  reason.  It  might 
well  take  for  its  motto  La  Fontaine's  famous 
line: 

"  La  raison  du  plus  fort  est  toujours  la  meilleure." 

How  are  we  to  refute  a  man  who  declares : 
"  I  believe  only  in  force,  and  I  am  the 
stronger  "? 

But  once  a  man  has  reached  this  point  of 
view,  it  will  be  useless  for  him  to  attempt  to 
attach  any  kind  of  a  meaning  to  the  word : 
truth.  In  vain  will  he  form  an  idea  of 
force  as  something  that  has  to  produce,  of 
itself,  not  only  a  physical,  but  a  moral  order 
of  things:  peace,  organization,  civilization. 
The  whole  of  this  development  is,  from  the 


36  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

outset,  powerless  to  realize  the  idea  of  truth  ; 
because,  after  all,  such  development  is  but  the 
multiplication  of  force,  and  between  force  and 
truth  there  is  a  difference  of  nature.  Truth 
is  true,  even  though  misunderstood,  scoffed  at 
and  prostituted.  Its  inherent  right  remains, 
even  though  it  be  devoid  of  the  force  necessary 
to  command  respect.  Instead  of  taking  force 
for  granted  and  being  able  to  exist  only  by 
its  means,  the  culture  whose  object  is  the  true 
and  the  beautiful  rises  over  against  force,  and 
consents  to  make  room  for  it  in  its  own 
domain  only  in  so  far  as  force  has  been  made 
tractable  in  the  service  of  right. 

If,  then,  the  doctrine  of  force  defies  refuta- 
tion, it  is  because  it  has  destroyed  every- 
thing on  its  path.  Ubi  solitudinem  faciunt, 
pacem  appellant.  What  remains  of  that  which 
the  world  calls  civilization,  morality,  kindness, 
humanity,  once  a  man  has  wholly  given  him- 
self up  to  elementary  forces  which  destroy 
indifferently  withered  leaves  and  human  lives, 
shapeless  stones  and  the  most  sacred  monu- 
ments of  history  and  art  ? 

Hence,  what  is  the  worth  of  this  certitude 
which  considers  itself  to  be  irreducible  be- 
cause it  has  an  invincible  belief  in  force  alone  ? 
It  is  really  nothing  less  than  fathomless  arro- 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  37 

gance,  a  sort  of  challenge  flung  at  reason  and 
truth.  Is  it  possible  that  man  should  re- 
nounce his  own  nature  to  such  an  extent  as 
to  abdicate  in  favour  of  force,  however  great  ? 


III. 

To  sum  up,  neither  the  separation  of  certi- 
tude from  truth,  nor  the  reduction  of  the  one 
to  the  other,  appears  admissible.  What  do  we 
mean  by  this  ?  Is  it  one  of  those  problems 
which  are  more  readily  solved  by  ignoring 
than  by  answering  them  ? 

Perhaps  the  only  thing  to  do  would  be  to 
confess  ourselves  beaten  in  our  effort  to 
understand;  and,  in  answering  this  question, 
to  appeal  to  the  common-sense  of  practical 
life,  if  we  had  tried  all  the  ways  that  lie  before 
us.  But  have  we  done  so  ? 

Up  to  this  point,  in  treating  the  subject,  we 
have  mainly  examined  German  philosophy. 
Now,  this  philosophy,  in  its  principal  repre- 
sentatives, in  Kant  as  in  Hegel,  in  Fichte  as 
in  Nietzsche,  possesses  one  very  remarkable 
trait  which  differentiates  it  from  most  of  the 
rest.  It  eliminates  feeling,  or  at  all  events 
reduces  it  to  a  subordinate  role.  What  Kant 
inserts  between  understanding  and  will,  under 


38  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

the  name  of  judgment  (Urteilskraft],  is  no 
more  than  a  system  of  categories,  an  intel- 
lectual apparatus.  Unquestionably,  Fichte 
regards  Rousseau's  philosophy  as  noble  and 
salutary,  though  only  on  condition  we  assign 
to  will  the  part  that  Rousseau  assigned  to 
feeling.  Nietzsche  professes  to  despise  sensi- 
bility, pity,  humanity,  which,  according  to 
him,  enervate  the  will.  In  the  problem  with 
which  we  are  now  dealing,  what  would  happen 
if,  following  the  example  of  most  men  and  in 
conformity  with  classic  traditions,  we  were  to 
give  feeling  a  place  by  the  side  of  will  and 
intellect  in  the  production  of  certitude  and 
the  appreciation  of  truth  ? 

There  is  a  doctrine  called  pragmatism  in 
considerable  vogue  at  the  present  time, 
and  advocated  by  eminent  thinkers,  mainly 
English  and  American  philosophers.  It  ap- 
pears to  regard  feeling  as  the  common  prin- 
ciple of  certitude  and  truth.  According  to 
this  philosophy,  the  ultima  ratio  which  enables 
us  to  regard  a  maxim  as  true  is  that  this 
maxim,  if  put  into  practice,  works  satis- 
factorily, brings  to  pass  events  that  please  us 
and  fulfil  our  expectation. 

The  satisfaction  we  feel,  say  the  pragma- 
tists,  is  the  principle  of  certitude,  since  it 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  39 

gives  us  confidence  in  the  maxim  we  have  put 
to  the  test.  Thus,  a  man's  good  services 
induce  us  to  have  faith  in  him,  make  us  certain 
that  he  is  our  friend.  At  the  same  time,  this 
satisfaction  is  the  principle  of  truth  itself;  for 
if  we  seek  the  common  element  in  all  those 
various  propositions  we  qualify  as  true,  we 
find  nothing  but  the  property  of  keeping  the 
promise  they  involve  and  of  affording  content- 
ment to  the  mind.  Physical  truths  are  truths 
because  by  taking  them  as  guides  in  our  rela- 
tions with  the  outer  world  we  find  ourselves 
in  harmony  with  that  world.  Mathematical 
truths  are  truths  because  their  demonstration 
gives  us  a  sense  of  the  harmonious  and  free 
expression  of  intellect. 

There  is  considerable  merit  in  this  theory, 
since,  from  the  outset,  it  deals  with  the  world 
of  realities.  It  must  be  confessed  that  in- 
tellect, of  itself  alone,  only  attains  to  ab- 
stractions. And  will  is  but  a  lawless  force, 
affirming  its  resolve  to  impose  itself.  Feeling 
is  reality,  as  it  appears  at  first,  before  under- 
going any  artificial  elaboration.  Now,  the 
philosophy  which  tries  to  discover  in  feeling 
the  principle  of  certitude  and  truth  has  been 
called  radical  empiricism. 

Since  feeling  is,  in  a  way,  reality  itself,  it 


40  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

must  be  to  our  advantage  to  study  certitude 
and  truth  from  the  standpoint  of  feeling.  We 
shall  thus  succeed  in  restoring  soul  and  life 
to  feeling,  whereas  German  intellectualism  or 
voluntarism  strive  to  eliminate  them  from  it. 

All  the  same,  this  system  solves  the  diffi- 
culty in  too  summary  a  fashion.  What 
exactly  is  that  sense  of  satisfaction  which, 
according  to  the  pragmatists,  should  be  the 
sole  principle  of  the  notions  of  truth  and 
certitude  ? 

Taken  alone,  feeling  is  but  a  fact,  an  indis- 
putable one,  assuredly,  from  the  empirical 
point  of  view,  and  more  certainly  real  than 
any  philosophic  system,  though  all  the  same 
powerless,  in  theory,  to  establish  certitude 
and  truth. 

If  I  seek  to  define  the  precise  kind  of  satis- 
faction it  is  advisable  to  set  up  as  a  funda- 
mental principle,  I  destroy  the  system.  In- 
deed, if  I  say :  every  proposition  which  does 
not  deceive  our  expectation  is  true,  is  it  not 
as  though  I  said:  every  proposition  which 
faithfully  states  a  law  of  nature,  which  con- 
forms to  truth  as  conceived  by  our  under- 
standing, is  true  ?  And  if  I  say :  I  declare 
myself  certain  when  the  satisfaction  I  feel 
dwells  in  the  loftiest  part  of  my  being,  do  I 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH          41 

not  presuppose  the  intervention  of  a  will 
which  chooses  a  certain  form  of  existence  and 
is  satisfied  when  it  attains  its  object  ? 

Lack  of  precision  or  a  vicious  circle:  prag- 
matism finds  considerable  difficulty  in  avoid- 
ing this  dual  danger. 

It  must  be  recognized  that  will  and  intellect 
are  really  principles  themselves,  that  they 
should  be  considered  as  existing  per  se,  and 
not  as  simple  modifications  of  feeling.  In- 
tellect seeks  truth  as  something  which  is,  and 
which  is  only  if  it  possesses  the  character  of 
eternity.  Will  is  not  something  given:  it  is 
a  power  which  realizes  itself  only  by  creating, 
and  which,  if  it  ceased  to  act,  would  also 
cease  to  be.  Will  and  intellect,  according  to 
this  view,  are  first  and  irreducible  principles, 
radically  distinct  from  each  other. 

And  yet  each  of  these  two  faculties  needs 
the  other  for  its  fitting  development.  The 
certitude,  to  which  will  tends,  will  be  but 
obstinacy  and  fanaticism  unless  determined  by 
the  possession  of  truth.  And  truth,  the  object 
of  intellect,  would  be  devoid  of  life  and  in- 
terest, a  crude  fact,  a  blind  and  gloomy 
necessity,  if  it  were  not  action,  the  life  of  an 
excellent  will.  God,  said  Aristotle,  is  eternal 
life: 


42  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

But  how  will  these  two  heterogeneous 
principles  be  able  to  participate  in  each  other  ? 
In  proportion  as  will  allows  itself  to  be  deter- 
mined by  intellect,  does  it  not  abdicate  the 
very  liberty  which  forms  its  essence  ?  And 
in  proportion  as  intellect,  in  giving  way  to  will, 
accepts  the  idea  of  a  created  truth,  does  it  not 
prove  false  to  itself?  At  that  rate,  intellect 
and  will  might  repeat  to  each  other  Ovid's 
line: 

"  Nee  sine  te  nee  tecum  vivere  possum." 

Is  this  antinomy  one  that  cannot  be  solved  ? 
It  seems  as  though  it  would  disappear  if, 
instead  of  recognizing  no  other  primordial 
realities  than  intellect  and  will,  we  equally, 
and  on  the  same  grounds,  admit  the  reality 
and  role  of  feeling. 

Alone  in  presence  of  each  other,  in- 
tellect and  will  can  make  no  attempt  at 
mingling  and  interpenetration  without  mutual 
diminution  and  crippling.  Undoubtedly, 
force  and  science  are  capable  of  uniting;  but 
what  remains  of  will  in  brute  force,  and  how 
is  the  life  of  intellect  to  be  reduced  to  scientific 
mechanism  ?  Now,  if  we  admit  that  intellect 
and  will  are  linked  to  each  other  by  feeling, 
we  can  conceive  that  they  may  grow  and 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH          43 

become  enriched  through  their  mutual  rela- 
tions without  being  faithless  to  their  respective 
principles.  Feeling  transforms  abstract  ideas 
into  motives  and  interests,  and  the  latter  in- 
fluence the  will  without  compromising  its 
personal  and  living  character.  By  giving  a 
body  and  a  communicable  essence  to  the  inner 
determinations  of  will,  feeling  also  gives  to 
intellect  the  fixed  centres  and  the  ends  it 
needs  for  the  avoidance  of  dilettantism  and 
sophistry. 

Thus  life,  soul  and  feeling  being  inter- 
calated, as  an  original  and  first  principle, 
between  certitude  and  truth,  these  two  meet 
again  without  clashing  with  each  other. 
Truth  creates  certitude  in  the  will,  because, 
instead  of  being  separated  from  this  latter,  it 
receives  from  it,  through  the  medium  of  feel- 
ing, life  and  direction,  without  which  it  would 
be  only  a  chaos  of  abstract  possibilities.  And 
certitude  is  something  more  than  fanaticism 
and  the  infatuation  of  an  arrogant  will, 
because  it  does  not  rest  on  itself,  but  finds,  in 
truth  translated  into  feeling,  the  appropriate 
matter  which  it  needs  to  be  fully  realized. 

Of  themselves  alone,  will  and  intellect  would 
be  incapable  of  acting  on  each  other.  Each 
of  them,  however,  acts  on  feeling  and  submits 


44  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

to  its  influence;  it  is  through  feeling,  then, 
that  they  have  communication.  Hence,  all 
effective  certitude  participates  in  truth,  and 
all  concrete  truth  participates  in  certitude. 

It  is  interesting  to  consider  the  significance 
of  this  doctrine  in  the  light  both  of  science 
and  of  practical  life. 

We  readily  picture  to  ourselves  the  sciences  as 
being  less  and  less  inadequate  expressions  of  a 
truth  apart  from  ourselves,  ready-made  and  un- 
changing, a  truth  which  has  only  to  be  ex- 
posed, just  as  one  unearths  a  hidden  treasure. 
And,  seen  from  without,  science  appears  to 
answer  to  this  definition.  It  first  accumulates 
facts — i.e.,  data  conceived  as  purely  objec- 
tive; then  it  applies  itself  to  reducing  these 
facts  to  mathematical  formulae — i.e.,  to  quan- 
tities exactly  transformable  into  one  another. 
And  mathematics  in  turn  seems  to  resolve 
itself  into  logic — i.e.,  into  the  art  of  eliciting 
from  a  given  proposition  all  the  consequences 
of  which  it  admits. 

It  must  be  recognized  that  such  is  the  aspect 
of  the  science  which  regards  itself  as  complete, 
and  is  transferred  from  mind  to  mind  by  the 
method  of  teaching.  But  in  the  men  of  genius 
who  create  it,  science  brings  other  principles 
into  play.  Strictly  scientific  facts  neither  are 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH          45 

nor  can  be  given,  in  the  exact  meaning  of  the 
word.  The  scientist  must  build  them  up  by 
ingeniously  combining  intuitions  which  can 
really  never  be  free  from  all  conceptual  ad- 
mixture, with  principles  of  choice  and  elabora- 
tion which  the  spirit  should  seek  within  itself. 
The  scientist  endeavours  to  apprehend  the 
creative  work  of  nature;  consequently,  he 
seeks  in  nature  for  thought,  life,  creation. 

Does  he  ever  fully  succeed  in  reducing  the 
data  of  experience  to  quantities,  the  pheno- 
mena of  nature  to  mathematical  elements  ? 
This  remains  doubtful.  Still,  even  were  such 
reduction  possible,  there  would  be  good  reason 
to  inquire  whether  mathematics  has  really  for 
its  object  an  inert  thing  which  need  only  be 
analyzed  in  order  to  be  known.  The  geo- 
metrician who  truly  advances  science  is  in 
reality  dominated  by  aesthetic  feelings  as  well 
as  by  logical  considerations.  He  tries  to 
translate  into  formulae  living  harmonies,  which 
spring  up  from  the  depths  of  his  soul : 
appovii)  d<f)avr}<>  <£ai/epr}5  Kpeirrcov  * ;  the  truth 
seen  by  his  intellect  is  also  a  certitude,  freely 
included  in  his  will. 

And,  lastly,  logic  itself,  to  which  certain 
philosophers  would  like  to  reduce  mathe- 

*  Heraclitus. 


46  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

matics,  rests  on  postulates  whose  terms  and 
formation  can  only  be  explained  by  attribut- 
ing them  to  the  action  of  a  will  which  affirms 
its  existence  and  maintains  it  through  all  the 
oppositions  with  which  it  meets. 

Thus  the  distinctive  form  of  science  is 
undoubtedly  as  rigorously  intellectual  as  pos- 
sible, but  the  truth  which  science  seeks  to 
know  is  not  exclusively  scientific.  This  truth 
is  being  itself,  and  the  observation  of  the  way 
in  which  science  comes  about  shows  that  being 
is  both  a  given  reality  and  a  living  power  of 
creation.  Science  states  and  formulates  the 
result  of  universal  creation,  in  so  far  as  this 
result  offers  a  certain  character  of  fixity, 
uniformity  and  unity. 

Nor  is  practical  life  less  enlightened  than 
the  philosophy  of  science  by  a  correct  appre- 
ciation of  the  relations  between  certitude  and 
truth.  Neither  the  idea  of  duty,  nor  that  of  a 
value  inherent  in  the  works  which  form  its 
composition,  can  be  abandoned.  But  between 
these  two  terms  there  must  be  the  possibility 
of  the  conception  of  some  relation.  My  con- 
viction must  bear  upon  a  truth,  and  the  truth 
offered  me  must  touch  me  and  prove  adap- 
table by  my  will. 

Now,  these  conditions  are  realizable  if  will 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH  47 

and  intellect  are  linked  together  by  feeling, 
and  these  three  powers  form  a  kind  of  trinity 
in  which  the  whole  is  both  one  and  multiple, 
each  being  at  the  same  time  both  itself  and 
the  others.  Ethics,  too,  without  incurring 
the  risk  of  fanaticism,  may  raise  ever  higher 
the  role  of  will,  conviction  and  the  idea  of  duty 
in  human  conduct.  No  longer  is  will  a  selfish 
and  brutal  despot  if  its  action  both  can  and 
must  be,  at  the  same  time,  feeling  and  in- 
tellect. In  this  respect,  philosophy  justifies 
common-sense,  which  declares  that  it  is  absurd 
to  trample  humanity  under  foot  for  the  pur- 
pose of  realizing  the  human  ideal. 

The  doctrine  to  which  we  have  been  led 
possesses  this  advantage  above  all  others:  it 
supplies  a  solid  groundwork  for  a  virtue  which 
people  vie  with  one  another  in  extolling,  but 
cannot  justify  philosophically:  tolerance.  If 
ethics  were  a  science  on  the  same  level  as 
physics,  how  could  it  admit  of  tolerance  ? 
Should  we  tolerate  the  denial  of  the  law 
governing  the  fall  of  bodies  ?  And  if  ethics 
were  exclusively  a  matter  of  personal  con- 
viction, how  could  one  require  an  absolutely 
convinced  man  to  respect  convictions  opposed 
to  his  own  ?  Should  we  attempt  to  force  him 
to  deny  the  principle  of  contradiction  ? 


48  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

But  if  every  deep  certitude,  linked  on  to  a 
feeling  and  an  idea,  has  thereby  to  some  ex- 
tent its  roots  in  truth  and  reality,  and  if  every 
truth,  especially  every  practical  truth,  offers 
itself  to  the  adhesion  of  will  through  the  attrac- 
tion of  feeling,  it  is  manifestly  unjust  as  well 
as  ineffectual  to  persecute  and  regard  as 
dishonourable  one  who  thinks  differently 
from  ourselves.  In  the  first  place,  that  there 
may  not  be  some  degree  of  truth  in  his  con- 
viction is  unlikely.  Then,  again,  in  con- 
vincing a  contradictor,  account  should  neces- 
sarily be  taken  of  the  original  power  which 
binds  will  to  intellect — i.e.,  feeling. 
urjSefjtiav  elvai,  fjrai$€va'iv  irapa  rov  fi 
(One  can  learn  nothing  from  a  man  against 
whom  one  has  a  feeling  of  antipathy),  said 
Xenophon.  The  heart  has  a  role  to  play, 
as  well  as  the  intellect  and  the  will  in  all 
moral  or  mental  education  the  object  of 
which  is  to  permeate  the  whole  man  and 
not  simply  deck  him  out  in  a  certain  cos- 
tume. If  men  look  upon  the  heart,  as  well 
as  the  intellect  and  the  will,  as  an  essential 
and  very  noble  part  of  our  nature,  they  will 
not  be  content  to  tolerate  one  another  but 
will  sincerely  endeavour  to  unite  and  work 
together  for  the  purpose  of  realizing  as  widely 


CERTITUDE  AND  TRUTH          49 

as  possible  their  own  distinctive  work,  the 
work  of  humanity.  And,  whilst  remaining 
men,  they  will  not  betray  the  cause  of  the 
ideal. 

'£1?  xapiev  ecrr'  avOpwTros,  orav  aiffpcoTros  $,* 
(How  pleasing  a  thing  is  man,  when  he  is  truly  man  !) 

*  Menander. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  GERMAN 
THOUGHT 

IT  is  a  cruel  fate  to  be  reduced  to  talk  and 
philosophize  whilst  the  destinies  of  France 
are  being  decided  on  the  battle-field.  Where, 
at  such  a  time,  are  we  to  obtain  the  mental 
detachment  necessary  for  correct  analysis, 
and  for  the  right  choice  of  word  or  phrase  ? 
Still,  perhaps  the  repugnance  we  feel  is  mis- 
placed, for  the  war  now  being  waged  is  some- 
thing more  than  the  clash  of  material  forces. 
The  France  of  the  Crusades,  of  Joan  of  Arc, 
and  of  the  Revolution,  faithful  to  her  past,  is 
fighting  for  ideas,  for  the  higher  interests  of 
mankind.  The  armies  of  the  Republic  are 
struggling  for  justice,  the  right  of  nations, 
the  civilization  of  antiquity  and  of  Christianity, 
against  a  Power  which  recognizes  no  right 
but  force,  and  claims  to  impose  its  laws  and 
culture  on  the  whole  world. 

The  intimate  union  of  action  and  thought, 
valour   and   reflection,   is   a   dominant  char- 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  51 

acteristic  of  the  mental  state  of  our  soldiers. 
We  all  notice  it.  The  young  men  whose 
studies  I  have  the  honour  to  direct,  who  but 
a  few  months  ago  were  wholly  devoted  to 
scientific  or  literary  research,  now  forward  to 
me,  during  a  halt  between  two  battles,  letters 
in  which  they  philosophize,  after  the  fashion 
of  Plato's  characters,  on  the  connection  be- 
tween infantry  and  artillery,  on  trench  war  in 
general.  Let  us  also  reflect  and  consider  the 
moral  aspects  of  the  events  taking  place. 
Thus  shall  we  maintain  that  fellowship  of 
ideas  and  feelings  with  our  dear  combatants 
for  which  we  ardently  long. 

German  thought:  how  indispensable  it  is 
that  we  should  know  and  understand  it  well 
if  we  would  faithfully  interpret  the  facts  of 
the  war,  its  causes,  the  way  in  which  our 
enemies  are  conducting  it,  and  the  results  at 
which  we  must  aim  !  The  task  is  no  easy 
one,  for  opinions  on  the  question  are  strangely 
divergent. 

Because  of  the  extraordinary  methods  pur- 
sued from  the  outset  by  our  enemies — scorn 
of  treaties,  conventions  and  laws,  massacre 
of  women  and  children,  regulated  and  futile 
incendiarism,  systematic  destruction,  unrea- 
soning bombardment  of  the  sanctuaries  of 


52  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

religion  and  science,  of  art  and  national  life — 
some  have  attributed  it  all  to  a  sudden  fit  of 
madness  or  of  collective  insanity.  How  could 
the  Germany  of  Goethe  and  Beethoven,  except 
as  the  result  of  a  pathological  aberration, 
delight  in  cruelty  and  barbarism  ? 

Deeper  inquiry  was  made  into  the  history 
of  German  thought,  and  we  were  amazed  to 
find  that,  long  before  the  war,  German  writings 
and  actions  showed  tendencies  quite  in  con- 
formity with  the  excesses  of  to-day.  For 
some  time  past,  German  philosophers  and 
historians  have  been  teaching  the  cult  of 
force.  German  thinkers  deified  the  Prussian 
State  and  the  German  nation,  looking  upon 
other  nations  as  destined,  by  Providence 
itself,  to  be  dominated  by  Germany. 

Going  farther  and  farther  back  into  the 
past,  certain  minds  imagined  that  the  germs 
of  this  pride  and  brutality  were  to  be  found 
even  in  the  most  ancient  representatives 
of  German  mentality.  They  came  to  this 
conclusion:  Germany  has  not  changed;  she 
has  always  been,  in  tendency  if  not  in  actuality, 
just  as  we  see  her  to-day.  Where  we  re- 
garded her  as  different,  she  was  simply  pre- 
vented by  circumstances  from  showing  her 
true  character. 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  53 

The  Germans  also  declare  that  they  have  not 
changed.  They  affirm  that  they  are  still  the 
idealists,  the  apostles  of  duty,  the  devotees  of 
art,  science  and  metaphysics,  the  privileged 
guardians  of  high  culture  symbolized  by 
the  illustrious  names  of  their  thinkers  and 
artistes.  "  We  shall  carry  through  this  war," 
exclaimed  the  official  representatives  of  Ger- 
man science  and  art,  addressing  themselves  to 
the  whole  world  in  October  1914,  "  to  the 
very  end,  as  being  the  war  of  a  people  of 
culture,  to  whom  the  heritage  of  a  Goethe,  a 
Beethoven,  a  Kant,  is  as  sacred  as  their  home 
and  country."  And  if  it  seems  to  us  that  the 
genius  of  Goethe  did  not  need  the  support  of 
Prussian  militarism  for  the  purpose  of  winning 
the  world's  admiration,  or  that  the  way  in 
which  the  Germans  are  now  carrying  on  war 
is  unworthy  of  a  civilized  nation,  then  such 
judgment  simply  proves  that  we  cannot 
understand  German  thought,  and  that  our 
bad  faith  is  on  a  level  with  our  ignorance 
and  imbecility. 

Even  in  these  days  of  trial,  unique  in  our 
history,  as  we  listen  to  the  wounded  and  the 
refugees  telling  us  of  the  horrors  they  have 
witnessed,  and  remember  the  bombardment 
of  cathedrals  and  unfortified  towns,  let  us  not 


54  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

forget,  in  this  attempt  to  define  German 
thought,  that  France  is  the  country  of  Des- 
cartes, the  philosopher  who  taught  us  that 
everything  great  and  progressive  in  civiliza- 
tion, even  all  the  virtues,  are  illusory,  unless 
based  on  inviolable  respect  for  truth. 


I. 

Let  us  take  a  general  view  and  try  to  unveil 
the  main  aspects  of  German  thought  in  modern 
times. 

In  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries 
the  general  character  of  German  life  is  par- 
ticularism, a  parcelling  out,  an  absence  of 
national  soul.  The  Treaty  of  Westphalia  was 
an  effect  as  well  as  a  cause.  So  persistent 
was  this  character  that  Goethe,  in  that 
luminous  and  far-seeing  vision  of  the  German 
soul  concealed  beneath  the  pleasant  idyll  of 
Hermann  and  Dorothea,  shows  us,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  wars  of  the  Revolution,  the 
inhabitants  of  a  small  town  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  Rhine  bringing  succour  and  help  to 
the  fugitives  without  ever  reflecting  whether 
there  existed  any  other  bond  between  them- 
selves and  these  unhappy  beings  than  that 
which  unites  together  all  human  creatures. 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  55 

"  How  deserted  the  town  is  !"  says  the  inn- 
keeper of  the  Golden  Lion  to  his  wife.  "How 
everybody  has  rushed  out  to  watch  the 
fugitives  pass  by  !  What  will  not  curiosity 
do!"  (Was  die  Neugier  nicht  tut!).  The 
inhabitants  of  each  town,  content  with  their 
local  occupations,  attached  to  their  own 
customs,  disposed  to  be  self-centred  and  to 
look  upon  the  inhabitants  of  neighbouring 
towns  as  strangers,  know  no  other  fatherland 
than  their  own  district. 

Still,  this  narrow  life  is  far  from  being  the 
only  one  offered  us  by  Germany  at  this  period . 
By  a  remarkable  contrast,  along  with  a 
restricted  external  life  there  is  found  an  inner 
life  of  strange  amplitude  and  profundity. 
The  connection  is  not  easy  to  grasp  between 
these  two  existences,  the  one  visible,  the  other 
invisible;  they  seem  to  be  two  personalities 
co-existing  in  one  and  the  same  consciousness. 

Such  is  the  religious  life  of  a  Luther,  so 
intense  and  ardent,  but  the  characteristic  of 
which  is  a  veritable  breach  of  continuity 
between  omnipotent  faith  and  works  which 
are  wholly  ineffective  from  the  point  of  view 
of  salvation.  In  the  artistic,  philosophic  and 
poetic  order,  great  minds,  admired  even  at  the 
present  time  by  the  whole  world,  create 


56  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

original  works,  the  common  feature  of  which 
is  perhaps  the  effort  to  grasp  and  reveal  the 
divine,  primal,  and  infinite  source  of  things. 

"Wo  fass'  ich  dich,  unendliche  Natur?" 
(Where  can  I  lay  hold  on  thee,  infinite 
nature  ?)  exclaims  Goethe's  Faust,  stifling  in 
the  prison,  all  crowded  with  dust-covered 
pamphlets,  and  shut  out  from  the  light  of 
heaven,  in  which  scholasticism  has  buried 
him. 

Goethe  discerns  the  ideal  hidden  away 
beneath  the  real,  and  sees  the  real  gradually 
mould  itself  upon  this  ideal  the  more  it  comes 
under  the  influence  of  divine  love : 

"Das  Ewig-Weibliche 
Zieht  uns  hinan." 

(Self-devoting  love,   the  eternal  feminine, 
draws  us  away  to  the  heights.) 

Thus  ends  the  tragedy  of  Faust,  the  German 
Titan. 

"  All  artistic  creation,"  said  Beethoven, 
"  comes  from  God  and  relates  to  man  only 
in  so  far  as  it  witnesses  to  the  action  of  the 
divine  within  him." 

The  trend  of  the  German  mind  during  this 
period  is  the  sense  of  dependence  of  the  finite 
on  the  infinite.  Man  is  capable  of  transcend- 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  57 

ing  himself  by  submitting  to  the  influence  of 
absolute  being.  The  German  word  Hingebung 
well  expresses  this  state  of  mind. 

During  this  same  period  the  Germans  in- 
vestigate and  adopt,  without  thinking  it 
possible  for  them  to  forfeit  anything  thereby, 
what  they  regard  as  good  in  the  ideas  of  other 
people.  "  There  was  a  time,"  writes  Kant, 
"  when  I  imagined  that  science,  of  itself  alone, 
could  sum  up  the  whole  of  human  dignity,  and 
I  despised  an  unscientific  people.  Rousseau 
led  me  back  into  the  right  track.  The  pres- 
tige of  science  faded  away;  I  am  learning 
to  honour  humanity  worthily,  and  I  should 
regard  myself  as  more  useless  than  the  meanest 
artisan,  did  I  not  henceforth  use  such  know- 
ledge as  I  possess  in  re-establishing  the  rights 
of  mankind."  Such  a  sentiment  does  not 
stand  alone;  at  that  time  German  thinkers 
willingly  accepted  suggestions  (Anregungen) , 
that  came  from  other  countries. 

The  German  soul  was  still  divided  in  this 
way  between  two  separate  worlds — the  world 
of  phenomena  as  Kant  calls  it,  a  shapeless 
inert  mass,  and  the  wrorld  of  noumena,  a 
transcendent  domain  of  the  spiritual  and  the 
ideal — when  there  took  place  those  great 
events  of  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  and  the 


58  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

beginning  of  the  nineteenth  centuries:  the 
Revolution  and  the  Empire. 

The  extreme  depression  in  which  Germany 
found  herself  after  Jena  effected  a  powerful 
reaction  in  certain  minds  which  professed 
admiration  for  the  Prussian  State.  The 
famous  "  Speeches  to  the  German  Nation  " 
which  Fichte  delivered  before  the  University 
of  Berlin  during  the  winter  1807-08,  when  the 
capital  was  still  occupied  by  the  French,  are 
the  most  remarkable  expression  of  this  re- 
action. Luther  had  said :  "  What  matters  it  if 
they  take  everything  from  us,  property  and 
honour,  children  and  women;  these  things  will 
not  benefit  them.  The  Empire  must  remain 
ours . ' '  Fichte  introduces  the  revelation  which 
is  to  turn  this  prediction  into  a  reality.  The 
thing  he  announces  is  that  the  supreme 
principle  of  creation  and  unity  which  the 
German  mind  sought  in  some  transcendental 
world  without  really  dwells  within  itself,  that 
the  absolute  self,  the  source  of  all  activity, 
thought  and  being  in  the  universe,  is  none 
other  than  the  German  self,  the  German  genius, 
the  Deutschheit,  the  kingdom  of  God  within. 

The  character  of  the  German  tongue,  which 
alone  is  pure,  primitive  and  living,  as  compared 
with  the  Latin  tongues,  made  up  of  dead 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  59 

residua,  is  the  sign  and  warrant  of  the  quality 
of  a  primitive  people,  the  first-born  of  God — 
Urvolk.  Germany,  compared  with  other 
nations,  is  spirit,  life,  and  good,  struggling 
against  matter,  death,  and  evil.  Let  Germany 
but  attain  to  self-knowledge,  and  she  will 
rise  and  overcome  the  world. 

The  first  thing  is  to  understand  that  "  for 
the  time  being  the  combat  of  arms  is  over,  and 
the  combat  of  principles,  morals  and  char- 
acters is  beginning."  It  is  a  moral  reform 
that  is  to  bring  about  the  resurrection  of 
Germany. 

The  revolution  that  is  to  be  effected  com- 
prises two  phases.  First,  the  German  people 
must  recover  possession  of  itself — i.e.,  become 
aware  of  the  primitive  and  autonomous  power 
of  creation  which  constitutes  its  essence. 
Secondly,  it  must  spread  German  thought 
throughout  the  world — the  self,  in  some  way, 
must  absorb  the  not-self — and  thus  effect  a 
complete  transformation  of  the  human  race, 
which,  from  being  terrestrial  and  material, 
will  become  German,  free  and  divine. 

Such  is  Fichte's  teaching.  It  aroused  in 
the  German  soul  the  loftiest  ambitions  for  in- 
dependence and  action,  though  it  supplied  few 
indications  as  to  the  concrete  ends  to  pursue 


60  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

and  the  means  to  employ  in  realizing  these 
ends.  These  gaps  were  filled,  from  the  theo- 
retical point  of  view,  by  Hegel,  the  principle  of 
whose  philosophy  was  the  radical  identity  of 
the  rational  and  the  real,  the  ideal  and  the 
positive. 

Spirit,  to  Hegel,  is  not  only  an  invisible, 
supernatural  power;  it  has  created  for  itself 
a  world  within  this  world  of  ours,  and  attains 
to  supreme  realization  in  a  certain  force,  both 
material  and  spiritual,  which  is  none  other 
than  what  is  called  the  State.  The  State  is 
the  highest  of  all  realities;  above  it  in  the 
world  of  existence  there  is  nothing.  Its  func- 
tion is  to  organize  liberty — i.e.,  to  abolish 
individual  wills  and  transform  them  into  one 
common  will,  which,  through  its  mass  and  unity 
of  direction,  will  be  capable  of  making  itself 
inevitable.  The  State,  supreme  intermediary 
between  the  World  and  God,  spirit  being  trans- 
muted into  force,  is  the  divine  instrument  for 
the  realization  of  the  ideal. 

But  how  will  this  immanent  God  account 
for  his  concrete  destinies  and  the  precise  ends 
towards  which  he  must  tend  ?  Hegel  answers 
this  question  by  his  philosophy  of  history. 
History,  he  teaches,  is  not  the  recital  of  events 
that  have  marked  out  the  lives  of  human 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  61 

beings ;  it  is  a  reality  which  exists  per  se,  the 
work  wrought  in  the  world  by  universal 
spirit,  destroying  those  creations  of  the  human 
free  will  of  which  it  disapproves,  and  maintain- 
ing and  causing  to  triumph  those  of  which 
it  approves.  Weltgeschichte  Weltgericht  (The 
world's  history  is  the  world's  tribunal).  The 
victors  and  the  powerful  of  this  world  are  the 
elect  of  God.  Hegel,  having  lost  his  fortune 
during  the  wars  of  the  Empire,  summed  up 
his  impressions  regarding  this  period  in  the 
words :  "  Ich  habe  die  Weltseele  reiten  sehen  " 
(I  have  seen  the  soul  of  the  world  ride  past) — 
referring  to  Napoleon. 

Thus  there  is  no  obscurity  regarding  the 
moral  value  of  the  various  existing  institu- 
tions and  the  divers  ends  in  view.  That 
State  is  the  noblest  and  the  strongest,  that 
policy  is  the  loftiest,  which  acquires  empire. 

Imbued  with  these  theories,  which  became 
increasingly  positive  and  definite,  the  Ger- 
mans, after  Leipzig,  Waterloo  and  the  treaties 
of  1815,  were  anything  but  satisfied.  The 
Genius  of  history,  in  the  year  9  B.C.,  by 
making  Hermann  victorious  over  the  three 
legions  of  Varus,had  inspired  in  all  of  German 
race  the  idea  of  eternal  vengeance  on  Roman 
insolence. 


62  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Germany  became  more  and  more  conscious 
that  her  material  power  was  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  her  spiritual  greatness  and  aspira- 
tions. The  admiration  which  the  world  pro- 
fessed for  her  philosophers,  poets  and  musi- 
cians, the  wide-spread  influence  of  her  thought 
in  the  nineteenth  century,  was  now  but  a  vain 
delusion;  she  must  have  visible  force  and 
power,  dominion  over  land  and  sea.  This 
mental  condition  was  expressed  by  Heine  in 
the  following  four  lines,  which  were  speedily  in 
everyone's  mouth,  and  which,  in  a  country 
where  maxims  possess  great  influence,  still 
further  increased  the  desire  for  vengeance  and 
conquest : 

"  Franzosen  und  Russen  gehort  das  Land, 
Das  Meer  gehort  den  Britten: 
Wir  aber  besitzen  im  Luftreich  des  Traums 
Die  Herrschaft  unbestritten." 

(The  French  and  the  Russians  possess  the  land,  the  sea 
belongs  to  the  English.  But  we  Germans  in  the  aerial 
realm  of  dreamland  hold  undisputed  sway.) 

Now,  whilst  German  ambitions  thus  became 
more  and  more  urgent  and  precise,  especially 
as  regards  the  situation  regained  by  France, 
it  came  about  that  three  successful  campaigns, 
those  of  1 864,  1 866,  and  1 870,  suddenly,  and  as 
it  were  miraculously,  raised  Germany  to  the 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  63 

very  front  rank  amongst  the  military  and 
political  powers  of  the  world.  What  influence 
was  this  to  have  on  German  thought  ? 

After  the  reconstitution  of  the  German 
Empire,  or  rather  the  creation  of  a  unified 
empire,  armed  more  powerfully  than  ever 
before  against  her  neighbours,  Germany  was 
not  content  to  exist  for  herself  alone;  she 
speedily  transformed  Fichte's  thought  along 
the  lines  of  the  change  that  had  taken  place 
within  herself.  To  realize  in  all  its  fulness 
the  idea  of  Germanism,  to  regenerate  the 
world  by  bringing  it  to  pass  that  the  divine 
will  should  be  done  amongst  the  nations  as 
it  was  in  the  elect  people — such  was  Ger- 
man thought.  No  longer,  however,  as  with 
Fichte,  was  it  a  question  of  substituting 
a  strife  of  principles  and  morals  for  armed 
combat;  actual  events,  as  well  as  theory, 
had  shown  that  force  alone  is  practical  in 
realizing  things ;  consequently,  it  is  by  force 
that  Germany  must  Germanize  and  recreate 
the  world. 

More  than  this,  Leibnitz  and  Kant  admitted 
that  different  nations,  unlike  in  genius,  had 
equal  rights  to  existence.  The  cobbler  philo- 
sopher, Jacob  Boehme,  had  long  before  this 
time  told  men  that  God  delights  to  hear  each 


64  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

bird  of  the  forest  praise  him  in  its  own  par- 
ticular melody.  A  victorious  Germany,  on 
the  contrary,  will  regard  German  thought 
as  exclusive  of  all  other  thought.  To  find 
room  for  Germanism,  nowadays,  means  the 
destruction  of  that  which,  along  the  lines  on 
which  other  nations  think,  appears  incapable 
of  being  brought  within  the  limits  of  German 
thought. 

To  determine  these  limits  would  involve 
an  attempt  to  sketch  the  main  traits  of  that 
culture  in  whose  name  Germany  is  now  waging 
war. 

The  first  object  of  German  culture  is  force. 
The  ideal  without  the  real  is  but  a  misty 
vapour;  moral  beauty  apart  from  power  is 
but  deception.  Germany  must  acquire  force 
so  that  she  may,  unhindered,  unfold  all  her 
possibilities,  and  impose  on  the  world  her  own 
culture,  the  superiority  of  which  the  various 
nations  in  their  ignorance  and  conceit  cannot 
of  themselves  recognize. 

Besides,  force,  per  se,  is  a  fine  and  noble 
thing,  which  the  weak  deprecate  only  because 
they  are  afraid  of  it  and  cannot  enrol  it  on 
their  own  side. 

Force  is  superiority  according  to  nature; 
this  is  a  supreme  and  inviolable  law.  Force 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  65 

is  the  principle  of  everything  that  exists  in 
reality,  and  not  simply  in  the  abstract.  It  is 
the  basis  of  all  laws  and  contracts,  and  these 
become  nothing  when  it  is  no  longer  there  to 
sanction  them. 

Force  is  the  basis  of  German  culture.  It  is 
vain,  declares  the  famous  manifesto  of  the 
ninety-three  "  intellectuals,"  to  claim  that, 
in  resisting  our  militarism,  you  respect  our 
culture.  "  Had  it  not  been  for  German  mili- 
tarism, German  culture  would  long  ago  have 
disappeared  from  the  face  of  the  earth." 

The  second  object  of  German  culture  is 
organization,  without  which  there  is  no  effec- 
tive force.  Organization  is  essentially  Ger- 
man. The  other  nations  believe  in  the 
efficacy  of  the  solitary  effort  of  a  man  of 
genius,  or  in  the  duty  incumbent  on  the  com- 
munity to  respect  the  dignity  of  each  of  its 
members.  German  organization,  starting  with 
the  idea  of  the  All,  sees  in  each  man  a  Teil- 
mensch,  a  partial  man;  and,  rigorously  apply- 
ing the  principle  of  the  division  of  labour, 
restricts  each  worker  to  the  special  task 
assigned  to  him.  From  man  it  eliminates 
humanity,  which  it  regards  as  the  wheelwork 
of  a  machine. 

Hence,  German  education  is  something 

5 


66  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

essentially  external.  It  is  training  and  not 
education  in  the  real  meaning  of  the  word — 
Drill  not  Erziehung.  It  teaches  men  to  act 
as  anonymous  parts  of  ever  greater  masses. 
The  bond  between  individuals,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  was  reason, 
regarded  as  the  common  essence  of  all  men 
(ratio  vinculum  societatis],  is  here  purely  ex- 
ternal ;  it  is  the  co-ordination  of  various  func- 
tions with  a  view  to  the  realization  of  a 
given  end. 

Organization,  thus  understood,  is  the  means 
of  acquiring  force;  it  is  also,  in  itself,  according 
to  German  thought,  the  highest  form  of  being. 
Thus  it  is  the  mission  of  Germany,  having 
organized  herself  after  her  own  ideas,  to  or- 
ganize the  whole  world  along  similar  lines. 
The  kingdom  of  God  on  earth  is  the  world 
organized,  in  German  fashion,  by  German 
force. 

The  third  element  of  German  culture  is 
science.  This  comprises  all  those  methods 
which,  by  the  appropriation  of  the  forces  of 
nature,  multiply  the  force  of  man  ad  infinitum. 
Since  1870,  applied  science  has  been  consider- 
ably developed  in  Germany.  Technical  in- 
stitutes have  now  superseded  the  Universities 
in  public  esteem. 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  67 

Science,  however,  as  a  whole,  constitutes 
that  title  of  honour  which  Germany  specially 
values.  German  science  is  self-sufficient;  it 
is  the  source  from  which  all  other  science 
draws . 

Besides,  German  science  has  character- 
istics of  its  own.  German  workers  in  physical 
sciences  aim  at  co-ordinating  the  results 
obtained  by  workers  all  over  the  world.  It 
is  their  mission  to  organize  scientific  research, 
as  they  do  every  thing  else ;  to  state  problems, 
classify  results,  and  deduce  conclusions. 
Science,  in  its  strict  meaning,  is  German 
science. 

The  physical  sciences  have  their  counter- 
part in  the  historical  sciences,  whose  object  it 
is  to  set  each  human  event  in  the  place  that 
belongs  to  it  in  the  whole.  This  task,  also, 
can  be  perfectly  accomplished  only  by  Ger- 
many. She  alone,  indeed,  can  strip  the  in- 
dividual of  his  own  distinctive  value  and 
identify  him  with  the  all  of  which  he  forms  a 
part.  She  herself  is  the  great  All,  the  realiza- 
tion of  which  is  the  end  of  this  universe. 

Such,  then,  are  the  characteristics  of  his- 
torical German  science.  Learned  specialists, 
under  the  direction  of  a  competent  master, 
first  collect  documents,  criticize  texts  and 


68  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

develop  their  meaning.  Then  the  German 
genius  effects  a  synthesis — i.e.,  sets  forth  each 
fact  in  the  history  of  the  progress  of  German- 
ism, this  history  being  regarded  as  that  of 
humanity.  That  the  historian's  attention 
may  not  be  diverted  to  unimportant  facts, 
the  Kaiser  recommends  him  to  adopt  the  crab 
method,  Krebsgang — i.e.,  to  proceed  back- 
wards, taking  the  present  function  of  the 
Hohenzollerns  in  the  world  as  the  culminating 
fact  of  history,  and  going  on  to  those  facts 
which,  even  as  far  back  as  the  creation  of  the 
world,  have  prepared  and  announced  that 
phenomenon. 

Force,  organization,  science:  these  are  the 
three  principles  of  German  culture.  The 
more  they  develop,  the  nobler  a  life  do  they 
make  possible  for  the  German  people  and  for 
the  world. 

After  1870,  material  life  in  Germany  became 
transformed  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  The 
simple,  modest  habits  of  past  generations  were 
followed  by  an  effort  to  live  the  most  modern 
and  luxurious  life,  to  procure  the  maximum 
of  wealth  and  enjoyment. 

The  arts  date  back  to  the  forms  most  purely 
German,  or  even  to  the  pre-classic  forms  of  a 
hoary  antiquity  which,  in  their  primitive 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  69 

colossal  character,  are  evidently  indebted  to 
the  genius  of  Germany.  Why,  then,  pretend 
to  be  sorry  that  masterpieces  of  French  and 
Flemish  art  have  been  ruined,  to  no  purpose, 
by  German  shells  ?  To  restore — and  more 
than  restore — their  original  beauty,  they  only 
need  to  be  restored  or  rebuilt  by  German 
artists. 

And,  lastly,  the  chef  d'oeuvre  of  German 
culture,  that  which  really,  according  to  the 
Kaiser's  definition,  makes  it  a  Kultur,  and 
not  simply  an  external  polish,  such  as  is  found 
in  the  Latins,  is  the  moral  constitution  of  man, 
the  total  abolition  of  the  idea  of  right,  and 
its  substitution  by  the  sane,  virile  and  religious 
idea  of  duty.  The  German  is  a  man  who 
obeys.  He  regards  the  whole  of  moral  life  as 
consisting  in  obedience  to  authority.  From 
the  German  point  of  view,  the  man  who  obeys 
his  superior  is  free  from  reproach,  and  this  is 
so  right  up  to  the  Emperor,  who,  as  William 
the  Second  said  in  1897,  "  is  responsible  to  the 
Creator  alone,  without  this  awful  responsi- 
bility ever  being,  in  the  slightest  degree, 
shared  either  by  ministers,  assemblies,  or 
people." 

Every  order  given  by  a  chief,  or  by  a  func- 
tionary, however  inferior,  emanates  from  the 


70  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Emperor — i.e.,  from  God.  Hence  we  see  how 
absurd  was  the  use  of  the  word  "  atrocity," 
to  designate  the  conduct  of  German  soldiers 
in  the  present  war,  as  the  Allies  have  had  the 
audacity  to  do.  The  German  soldiers  are 
disciplined,  above  all  else;  consequently,  their 
acts  could  never  be  branded  as  atrocious ;  they 
are  deeds  of  war,  the  Emperor  alone  is  respon- 
sible for  them,  and  that  before  God  alone. 


II. 

We  have  endeavoured  to  reveal  some  of  the 
main  traits  of  German  thought  during  the 
three  periods  of  the  modern  history  of  Ger- 
many. Let  us  now  see  what  answer  we  can 
give  to  the  question  which  everyone  is  asking : 
"  What  connection  j's  there  between  the  Ger- 
many of  the  present  and  the  German}-  of  the 
past  ?" 

We  cannot  say  that  Germany  has  not 
changed.  It  is  contrary  to  fact  either  to 
claim,  as  the  Germans  do,  that  she  remains 
faithful  to  the  idealism  of  Kant,  Beethoven, 
and  Goethe,  or  to  identify  the  Germany  of 
these  thinkers  and  artists  with  the  vandalism 
which  present-day  Germany  glories  in  ex- 
hibiting. 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  71 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  it:  Germany  has 
changed.  Ever  since  1870,  anyone  who  has 
observed  German  life  has  seen  this  very 
clearly.  Before  that  date,  and  especially 
before  1864,  it  was  possible  for  a  Frenchman 
to  reside  in  Germany  without  his  national 
dignity  being  assailed;  after  1870  this  was 
not  so. 

The  dates  1806-1815  and  1864-1871  are 
clear  demarcations  of  the  new  tendencies  of 
German  thought.  The  Germany  to  which 
Fichte  appealed  in  1807  still  regarded  herself 
as  a  nation  amongst  nations.  Fichte  taught 
that  she  was  the  "  type  "  nation,  the  primi- 
tive race,  the  only  one  free  from  corruption, 
and  whose  mission  it  was  to  rule  and  regenerate 
the  universe.  What  else  can  we  see  but  a 
veritable  moral  revolution  in  the  claim  that 
Germany  henceforth  sets  up:  that  she  will 
suffice  unto  herself,  whereas  formerly  she 
quietly  submitted  to  foreign  influence  or 
obeyed  divine  inspiration  ? 

Fichte 's  speeches  marked  the  advent  of  a 
spiritual  Germanism;  the  wars  of  unification, 
as  the  Germans  now  call  the  three  wars  be- 
tween 1864  and  1870,  establish  the  transfor- 
mation of  this  spiritual  Germanism  into  a 
material  Germanism.  The  war  of  1870  ended 


72  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

in  the  decisive  conquest  of  Germany  by 
Prussia,  and  the  indefinite  postponement  of 
liberty  in  favour  of  unity  and  force. 

That  the  transition  from  each  of  these 
phases  to  the  next  was  not  necessary  and  in- 
evitable ;  that,  from  one  to  the  other,  Germany 
effected  a  veritable  change,  is  proved  by  the 
part  which  certain  external  causes  played  in 
this  unfolding. 

Circumstances,  assuredly,  played  at  first  a 
considerable  part  in  the  evolution  that  came 
about.  Jena  and  Sedan  are  not  two  logical 
stages  in  the  inner  development  of  German 
thought.  The  influence  of  these  two  events 
was  certainly  decisive.  Jena  determined,  in 
Germany,  a  reaction,  of  which,  left  to  herself, 
she  was  incapable.  Sedan  made  it  definitely 
impossible  for  Germany  to  recover  her  in- 
dependence. 

Certain  men,  too,  by  the  might  of  their 
personality,  contributed  to  the  evolution  of 
German  thought.  Fichte  electrified  his  listen- 
ers in  1807-08  by  his  energetic  will  even 
more  than  by  his  learned  deductions.  Bis- 
marck plunged  his  nation  and  King  into  a  war 
to  which  he  gave  historical  significance  by  the 
way  in  which  he  provoked  it,  and  the  object 
he  had  in  view.  Treitschke,  a  converted 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  73 

theorist  of  Prussian  absolutism,  was  an  orator 
of  amazing  passion  and  violence,  as  I  verified 
for  myself  when  I  heard  him  in  the  large  aula 
of  Heidelberg  University  in  1869.  Napoleon, 
above  all,  became  a  mythical  hero  substituted 
for  the  real  man,  a  genius  too  great  for  the  little 
nation  to  which  he  thought  he  belonged,  the 
bearer  of  the  Idea  and  of  the  very  soul  of  the 
world,  as  Hegel  said.  Just  as  the  French  are 
the  custodians  of  Latin  thought,  so  the 
German  people  is  the  true  heir  and  executor 
of  the  thought  of  Napoleon,  the  genius  who, 
directly  or  indirectly,  created  German  unity 
and  dictated  to  Europe  its  task :  that  of  driving 
back  the  barbarians  of  the  East  and  ruining 
the  merchants  of  the  West.  The  soul  of 
Napoleon  is  the  soul  of  the  German  people: 
his  star  goes  in  front  of  the  German  armies 
and  is  to  lead  them  to  victory. 

In  a  word,  Germany  is  now  largely  the 
product  of  an  external  phenomenon — i.e.,  of 
education.  Ever  since  Fichte,  education  has 
been  employed  most  methodically  and  ener- 
getically in  moulding  the  human  consciousness 
as  well  as  the  human  body.  Instruction  of 
every  kind,  religion  and  history,  grammar  and 
geography,  dancing  and  gymnastics,  must  con- 
tribute mainly  in  the  moulding  of  Germans — 


74  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

who  speak  and  act,  almost  by  reflex  action — 
along  the  lines  of  an  increase  of  German  might. 
The  examples  given  in  grammar  books  in- 
culcate scorn  of  the  "  hereditary  foe."  By 
playing  with  colours  and  the  orthography  of 
names,  atlases  annex  countries  which  ought  to 
belong  to  Germany.  Historical  treatises,  in 
conformity  with  Fichte's  theory,  set  forth  the 
Latins  as  being  Germans  corrupted  by  an  ad- 
mixture of  Roman  blood.  Philosophers  still 
speak,  in  stereotyped  fashion,  of  internal  de- 
velopment, of  the  awakening  of  thought  and 
personality.  In  fact,  however,  instruction  is 
essentially  a  mechanical  training;  it  aims  at 
making  men  serviceable  (brauchbar),  by  estab- 
lishing the  principle  that  the  first  end  at  which 
to  aim  is  the  creation  of  an  enormous  war- 
machine  in  which  minds  and  arms  unhesi- 
tatingly obey  the  word  of  command. 

By  instruction,  collective  action,  books, 
speeches,  songs  and  personal  influence,  at- 
tempts are  made  in  Germany  to  inculcate 
certain  doctrines.  Cut-and-dry  formulae  and 
speeches  would  appear  to  be  more  effective 
in  this  land  than  in  any  other.  We  are 
amazed  to  find  exactly  identical  theories  in 
the  words  and  writings  of  Germans  of  every 
rank  and  locality. 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  75 

We  have  seen  that  the  change  apparent  in 
German  thought  ever  since  the  seventeenth 
century  is  not  imaginary  and  superficial,  but 
real  and  profound.  The  Germany  of  to-day 
is  quite  a  different  Germany  from  that  of 
Leibnitz  and  Kant,  of  Goethe  and  Beethoven. 

Does  this  mean  that  there  is  no  connection 
between  the  two,  and  that  the  contingent 
character  of  this  development  implies  a  com- 
plete breach  of  continuity  ? 

A  profound  analysis  of  Germany's  intel- 
lectual and  moral  past  proves  that  this  is  not 
so,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  very  character- 
istic germs  of  the  mental  state  now  manifest 
have  long  existed.  The  phase  of  thought 
that  has  come  about  has  not  been  a  meta- 
morphosis, the  substitution  for  one  given 
being  of  an  entirely  new  one;  it  has  consisted 
in  the  increasingly  exclusive  unfolding  of 
certain  parts  of  the  German  character,  which, 
in  the  past,  were  tempered  by  others.  What 
was  in  the  background  has  passed  to  the  front, 
or  even  thrust  back  all  the  rest  to  such  an 
extent  that  it  now  appears  to  exist  alone. 
It  is  like  some  characteristic  which,  present 
in  a  child  and  attracting  but  little  attention 
because  it  is  of  secondar}^  importance,  be- 
comes exaggerated  in  the  man  under  the 


76  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

influence  of  circumstances  and  the  will,  and 
finally  controls  the  entire  nature. 

It  is  assuredly  strange  that  Germany  has 
passed  from  worship  of  God  to  worship  of 
herself.  Scholars,  however,  have  discovered 
in  the  German  character,  as  it  has  revealed 
itself  from  the  beginning,  such  a  substratum 
of  arrogance  as  we  find  few  examples  of  in 
history.  The  Germans  have  a  rare  propensity 
for  identifying  their  own  interest  with  that  of 
the  universe,  and  their  point  of  view  with  that 
of  God.  Hence  that  narrow  and  insolent 
dogmatism,  which  they  themselves  regard  as 
an  important  trait  in  their  character.  "  Do 
not  forget,"  we  read  in  a  collection  of 
poems  intended  for  the  German  soldiers  of 
1914,"  to  put  into  practice  that  famous  say- 
ing: Nur  Lumpen  sind  bescheiden  !  (Only 
louts  are  modest)." 

Not  only  in  the  German  character  generally, 
but  also  in  the  teachings  of  philosophers,  is  to 
be  discovered  a  singular  tendency  to  put  the 
self,  the  German  self,  in  the  place  of  God. 

German  philosophy,  along  with  Kant  and 
Fichte,  tends  to  regard  those  things  which 
our  simple  good  sense  finds  existing  apart  from 
ourselves  as  imaginary  processes  unconsciously 
performed  by  our  intellectual  powers.  The 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  77 

external  world,  says  Kant,  is  an  object  con- 
structed for  himself  by  the  subject,  that  he 
may  become  conscious  of  himself  by  contrast- 
ing himself  with  it.  And  Fichte  adds  that 
the  self  creates  this  object  as  a  whole  without 
borrowing  anything  from  an  external  world 
which  does  not  exist.  When  at  Heidelberg 
in  1869,  attending  Zeller's  lectures,  I  was 
amazed  to  hear  the  professor  once  begin 
with  the  words:  "  To-day  we  will  construct 
God." 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  the  mind  which 
attributes  to  itself  the  power  to  construct 
God  should  come  to  regard  itself  as  God ;  and 
since  Fichte,  after  Jena,  saw  his  transcen- 
dental deduction  culminate  in  the  conception 
of  the  German  genius  as  a  foundation  of  the 
absolute  self,  is  it  not  logical  that  this  philo- 
sopher should  identify  Germanism  with  Divine 
Providence  ? 

Thus  the  present  deification  of  Germanism 
is  connected  with  the  history  and  philosophy 
of  Germany.  It  may  seem  a  more  difficult 
matter  to  discover  in  the  idealistic  Germany 
of  the  past  the  mother  of  the  realistic, 
materialistic  and  brutal  Germany  of  the 
present. 

And  yet  it  may  be  remarked  that  in  German 


;8  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

thought  the  idea  of  power,  force,  war,  de- 
struction, and  evil,  has  always  held  an  im- 
portant place.  In  vain  did  the  old  German 
god  Wotan  cause  the  death  of  Ymir,  "  the 
rime-cold  giant  ";  in  vain  perished  the  giants 
of  old,  drowned  in  the  blood  of  Ymir;  one  of 
them  escaped  death,  and  from  him  was  born 
a  new  race  of  giants  to  fight  the  gods.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  with  the  various  parts  of 
the  wicked  giant  Ymir's  body  that  Wotan 
and  his  brothers  built  up  the  world.  The 
powers  of  evil  did  not  cease  to  haunt  forests 
and  deserted  spots.  The  erlking,  hiding  in 
belts  of  clouds  and  in  dry  leaves,  snatches 
away  children  from  their  fathers'  arms. 

Moreover,  let  us  not  forget  that  the  Prus- 
sians were  brought  to  Christianity  only  at  the 
end  of  the  thirteenth  century,  by  Teutonic 
knights,  who  succeeded  in  reducing  them  only 
after  fifty  years  of  warfare.  It  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  if  the  pagan  element  tends  to 
assert  itself,  and  sometimes  to  represent  the 
God  of  the  Christ  in  a  form  that  would  be 
more  suitable  to  the  Moloch  of  the  Phoeni- 
cians. 

It  would  seem  as  though  the  teachings  of 
the  philosophers  form  a  counterpart  to  these 
popular  beliefs.  In  them  we  find  evil  occupy- 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  79 

ing  quite  another  place  from  that  it  holds  in 
Greek  teachings. 

This  line  of  thought  starts  with  the  prin- 
ciple, indisputable  in  itself,  that  to  will  the 
realization  of  an  end  is  to  will  the  means  with- 
out which  this  realization  is  impossible.  In 
the  application  of  this  principle,  however,  the 
Germans  tended  to  admit  that  none  but 
mechanical  means,  those  forces  which  as  a 
whole  constitute  matter,  are  efficacious; 
and  that  there  is  no  effective  potency  in  idea 
as  such,  in  good-will,  in  justice  or  in  love. 
Aristotle's  god  was  intelligence  and  goodness. 
Apart  from  himself  was  material  force  which, 
in  a  wholly  spiritual  way,  he  permeated  with 
desire  and  thought.  The  principle  of  being, 
on  the  other  hand,  according  to  Jacob  Boehme, 
the  old  "  Teuton  philosopher,"  has  for  its 
basis  non-being,  night,  endless  desire,  invading 
force,  contradiction,  pain  and  evil.  By  the 
fundamental  law  of  being,  he  says,  nothing  can 
be  realized  except  when  contrasted  with  its 
opposite;  light  can  be  born  only  from  dark- 
ness. God  can  come  forth  only  from  the 
devil. 

"  Die  Finsterniss,  die  sich  das  Licht  gebahr  " 
(Darkness,  the  mother  of  light),  said  Mephistopheles. 


8o  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

The  optimist  Leibnitz  himself  said  that 
good  can  be  realized  only  by  acknowledging 
the  power  of  evil.  Kant  shows  us  that 
thought  is  incapable  of  being  presented  unless 
it  is  set  over  against  a  material  object.  Whilst 
seeking  for  the  means  of  leading  men  towards 
a  perpetual  peace,  the  first  means  that  he 
recommends  is  war.  "  Away  with  the  Arca- 
dian life,  beloved  of  sensitive  souls,"  he  wrote 
in  1784.  "  Thanks  be  to  nature  for  those 
instincts  of  discord  and  malevolent  vanity, 
of  insatiable  desire  after  wealth  and  rule 
with  which  she  has  endowed  men.  But  for 
these  instincts,  the  nobler  mind  of  humanity 
would  eternally  slumber.  Man  wills  concord 
and  harmony,  but  Nature  knows  better  what 
is  good  for  him — she  wills  discord." 

By  applying  in  this  way  the  principle  of  the 
conditions  of  realization,  we  are  led  to  regard 
all  right  as  illusory,  a  pure  metaphysical 
entity,  vain  material  for  harangues  and  re- 
criminations, unless  based  on  a  force  capable 
of  compelling  it.  To  speak  of  right  when  one 
is  devoid  of  force  is  impudently  and  criminally 
to  challenge  the  one  who  possesses  force.  To 
those  who  indulge  in  such  bluster,  the  Germans 
address  the  following  rebuke:  "  A  policy  of 
force  devoid  of  force  is  mischievous  non- 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  81 

sense  "  (Eine  Machtpolitik  ohne  Macht  1st  ein 
frevelhafter  Unsinn). 

The  final  step  consisted  in  transforming  the 
means  into  an  end,  in  saying  not  only  that 
force  precedes  right,  but  that  force  itself  is 
right . 

This  line  of  progress,  in  philosophy,  has  been 
prepared  by  the  famous  doctrine  of  pre-estab- 
lished harmony,  according  to  which,  through- 
out the  universe,  the  visible  is  the  faithful 
symbol  of  the  invisible.  Here,  force  is  not 
only  a  condition,  but  an  external  sign,  a 
practical  substitute  for  right. 

Accustomed  to  regard  things  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  absolute,  and  convinced 
that,  in  the  essence  of  things,  force  is  the  first 
and  fundamental  principle,  German  thought 
has  come  to  deify  force  qua  force,  to  transform 
it  from  a  means  into  an  end,  an  essential  end, 
in  which  all  others  are  included. 

Thus,  practical  materialism,  no  less  than 
the  apotheosis  of  Germanism,  which  at  present 
characterizes  German  thought,  shows  itself 
as  the  development  of  certain  germs  which 
pre-existed  both  in  the  German  mind  and  in 
the  teachings  of  German  philosophers. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  deepest  inner  causes  ol 
the  trend  of  German  thought  is  to  be  found  in 

6 


82  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

a  remarkable  trait  which  seems  rooted  in 
the  tendency  to  disparage  feeling  and  attach 
value  to  intellect  and  will  alone. 

This  is  an  unfamiliar  aspect  of  German 
mentality,  for  in  many  of  us  the  very  name 
of  Germany  still  calls  up  ideas  of  romanticism 
and  sentimentality.  Present  -  day  Germans 
affirm  that  sentimentality,  in  Germany,  has 
never  been  more  than  a  passing  malady,  an 
infection  resulting  from  inoculation  with  the 
Celto-Latin  virus.  It  seems  impossible  that 
Frenchmen  should  in  like  measure  despise  the 
popular  Lieder  of  Germany,  the  music  of  a 
Weber,  a  Schubert,  or  a  Schumann.  Still,  it 
appears  in  conformity  with  the  general  history 
of  German  thought  to  maintain  that  feeling  or 
sentiment,  wherever  found,  is,  in  Germany, 
essentially  individual,  and  has  no  part  to  play 
in,  fulfilling  the  destinies  of  the  universe,  or 
even  of  human  societies.  The  horror,  as 
regards  feeling,  affected  by  such  champions 
of  Prussian  thought  as  Frederick  the  Second 
and  Bismarck  is  proverbial.  Feeling,  said 
Bismarck,  is  to  cold  reason  what  weeds  are  to 
corn;  it  must  be  rooted  up  and  burnt.  The 
essential  character  of  the  Prussian  State  is  to 
be,  exclusively  and  despotically,  an  intelligence 
and  a  force,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  moral  feel- 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  83 

ing  similar  to  that  existing  in  the  individual. 
Not  that  the  State  knows  nothing  of  ethics  and 
is  incapable  of  virtue ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  it- 
self the  very  chef  d'ceuvre  of  ethics .  Its  mission, 
however,  is  to  be  strong,  to  recognize  nothing 
but  force.  Its  virtue  consists  in  carrying  out 
its  mission  in  all  loyalty.  The  more  the  State, 
like  the  individual,  is  what  it  ought  to  be,  the 
more  moral  it  is. 

Not  only  in  Prussian  politicians,  but  in 
German  philosophers  in  general,  is  there 
noticed  a  tendency  either  to  intellectualism, 
to  radical  voluntarism,  or  to  a  union  of  these 
two  doctrines.  The  philosophy  of  Leibnitz, 
whose  main  idea  is  to  substitute  harmony  for 
unity  as  the  principle  of  things,  gives  a  wholly 
intellectual  meaning  to  this  harmony;  it  is 
the  correspondence  by  virtue  of  which  the 
various  beings  of  nature,  as  they  are  comple- 
mentary to  one  another,  realize  the  greatest 
amount  of  existence  it  is  possible  to  conceive 
without  contradiction.  Kant's  system  cul- 
minated in  a  theory  of  science  as  well  as  in  one 
of  ethics,  from  both  of  which  feeling  was 
excluded.  And  if  this  philosopher  seems  to 
reinstate  feeling  as  the  necessary  link  between 
science  and  ethics  in  his  Critique  of  the 
Judgment,  it  is  but  to  fling  it  on  to  the 


84  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Procrustean  bed  of  his  categories,  and  there 
reduce  it  to  concepts  and  abstractions.  If 
Fichte  admires  the  philosophy  of  Rousseau, 
it  is  only  on  condition  that  feeling  be  replaced 
by  will.  As  for  German  mysticism,  this  is  an 
intellectual  intuition  of  the  absolute  or  a 
taking  possession  of  the  generating  power  of 
things,  far  more  than  a  communion  of  persons 
bound  together  by  love.  Both  the  romantics 
and  the  German  philosophers  of  "  feeling  " 
retain  the  spirit  of  abstraction  and  system 
which  marks  the  predominance  of  understand- 
ing over  sensibility.  And  what  the  youthful 
generations  of  Germany  seek  in  Frederick 
Nietzsche  is  more  especially  the  religion  of 
brute  force,  which  looks  upon  goodness  as 
cowardice  and  hypocrisy,  and  tolerates  the 
existence  of  the  humble  only  in  so  far  as 
they  can  play  the  part  of  good  slaves. 

Suppose,  in  a  nation,  that  intellect  and  will 
alone  are  regarded  as  noble  and  effectual, 
feeling  being  relegated  to  the  individual  con- 
sciousness, and  you  can  readily  imagine  that  a 
frame  of  mind  similar  to  that  of  present-day 
Germany  will  be  developed  therein. 

In  the  domain  of  idea  and  reasoning,  the 
habit  of  sophistry  will  be  created.  Indeed, 
if  you  remove  feeling,  which,  joined  with 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  85 

intellect  and  will,  produces  good  sense,  judg- 
ment, honesty,  justice,  and  humanity,  then 
intellect  and  will,  in  a  soul  thus  mutilated, 
will  be  no  more  than  a  machine,  a  sum-total 
of  forces  ready  to  place  themselves  at  the 
service  of  any  cause,  without  distinction. 
The  will,  in  such  a  conception  of  life,  takes 
itself  as  an  end,  and  wills  simply  in  order  to 
will.  Science  claims  to  have  supplied  a 
peremptory  demonstration,  because,  from  the 
mass  of  facts  which  it  has  piled  up,  it  has 
elicited  or  deduced  those  that  proceed  to  some 
particular  well-defined  object.  This  will,  how- 
ever, in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  dialectics,  does 
not  find  in  itself  a  law  that  transcends  it. 
And  this  intellect,  to  which  the  object  is 
indifferent,  will  be  able  to  deduce  from  the 
facts,  if  the  will  so  dictates,  the  contrary  of 
what  itself  had  successfully  demonstrated. 
To  discover  truth,  said  Pascal,  we  "must  com- 
bine the  mathematical  with  the  intuitive 
mind.  Now,  the  latter  consists  of  feeling  as 
well  as  of  intellect. 

In  practice,  the  elimination  of  feeling  leads 
to  the  unrestricted  profession  of  that  immoral 
maxim — the  end  justifies  the  means.  From 
this  point  of  view,  all  that  is  required  of  the 
means  is  that  they  should  be  calculated  to 


86  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

realize  the  end.  It  is  not  our  business  to 
inquire  whether  the  means  used  are  per  se 
cruel,  treacherous,  inhuman,  shameful,  or 
monstrous;  all  these  appreciations  emanate 
from  feeling  and  so  are  valueless  to  an  intellect 
which  professes  to  repudiate  feeling.  Indeed, 
it  may  happen  that  the  most  reprehensible 
means  may  be  capable  of  producing  advan- 
tageous, even  good  results. 

Moreover,  what,  according  to  this  system,  is 
an  end  that  is  qualified  as  good  ?  When  ends, 
like  means,  depend  only  on  intellect  and  will, 
to  the  exclusion  of  feeling,  then  the  end  best 
justified  is  force,  absolute  and  despotic  domin- 
ation, devoid  of  all  admixture  of  sensibility 
and  humanity.  And  the  final  word  of  culture 
is  the  synthesis  of  power  and  science,  the 
result  of  the  combination  of  intellect  and  will 
alone. 

In  a  world  ruled  by  such  culture,  there  are 
only  systems  of  forces:  persons  have  dis- 
appeared. Individuals  and  nations  no 
longer  possess  any  dignity  or  right,  in  them- 
selves; to  interest  oneself  in  their  existence 
and  liberty  would  be  to  yield  to  feeling,  to 
take  account  of  purely  subjective  tendencies 
and  desires.  Intellect  and  will  take  cognizance 
of  nothing  but  the  whole,  the  sole  unity  to 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  87 

which  power  belongs ;  they  consider  the  parts 
only  in  so  far  as  these  are  identified  with  the 
whole. 

And  the  condition  of  the  perfect  organiza- 
tion of  the  world  is  that  there  should  exist  a 
master-people,  ein  Herrenvolk,  which,  by  its 
omnipotence,  will  terrorize  or  subdue  inferior 
nations  and  compel  them  to  carry  out,  in  the 
universal  task,  the  part  which  itself  has  im- 
posed on  them. 

If  the  comparisons  here  established  between 
the  present  and  the  past  of  Germany  are 
correct,  then  we  need  not  labour  under  any 
illusion  as  to  the  relatively  new  and  contingent 
element  in  the  conduct  of  contemporary 
Germany.  External  conditions  have  caused 
her  to  fall  over  on  the  side  to  which  she  was 
leaning.  Certain  inclinations  which,  held  in 
check  by  others,  might  have  remained  pure 
tendencies  and  been  simply  expressed  as  liter- 
ary, artistic,  and  philosophical  works,  once 
allowed  free  play,  have  become  great  forces, 
destructive  of  moral  order  and  of  human 
civilization. 

An  attentive  study  of  Germany's  past 
shows  that  there  is  nothing  in  explanations 
which  regard  the  present  madness  as  merely 
the  sudden  and  fleeting  reaction  of  a  stricken 


88  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

organism  against  the  enemies  that  threaten 
her  existence.  Germany  is  pleased  to  pose  as 
a  victim.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  war  is  her 
element.  "  The  German  Empire  is  wholly 
based  on  war,"  wrote  General  von  Bernhardi 
in  1911.  The  Pax  Germana  is  nothing  but  an 
artful  war,  ever  ready  to  break  out  into  open 
warfare.  For  it  is  Germany's  policy  to  be 
always  on  bad  terms  with  her  neighbours,  to 
be  constantly  contriving  pretexts  for  picking 
a  quarrel  with  and  afterwards  crushing  them. 

Let  us  then  beware  of  regarding  the  present 
war  as  but  a  crisis,  an  accident,  and  of  thinking 
that,  with  the  signing  of  a  treaty,  we  may 
abandon  ourselves  to  the  sweets  and  delights 
of  an  unalterable  peace.  We  have  been  duly 
warned  that  the  Germans  regard  a  treaty  as 
but  a  scrap  of  paper;  and  the  entire  past  of 
which  this  war  is  the  culmination  will  not  have 
become  blotted  out  because  of  the  exchange 
of  a  few  signatures. 

For  this  reason,  when  the  war  is  over,  we 
must  continue  watchful  and  ready  for  action, 
for  months  and  years,  for  centuries  even. 

Of  this  we  are  fully  capable.  The  Germans 
had  spread  the  rumour — it  seemed  at  times 
as  though  they  had  made  us  believe  it  our- 
selves— that  we  were  an  amiable  though 


GERMAN  THOUGHT  89 

frivolous  (leichtfertig)  nation,  fickle  and  noisy 
children,  incapable  of  being  earnest  and  per- 
severing. Both  our  army  and  our  youth  are 
now  showing,  in  very  simple  fashion,  that, 
whilst  possessed  of  the  ardour  and  generosity 
commonly  attributed  to  us,  we  are  also  not  lack- 
ing in  constancy,  in  a  calm  and  firm  courage, 
a  steady  and  indefatigable  determination. 

Moreover,  the  nation  has  realized,  frankly 
and  without  any  effort,  by  a  patriotism  as 
high-minded  as  it  is  warm-hearted,  that 
affectionate  harmonious  understanding,  that 
open  and  hearty  collaboration  in  the  common 
task,  which  is  the  promise  of  success  in  all 
human  endeavour.  What  weight  have  dif- 
ferences of  opinion,  of  positions  or  interests, 
to  men  who  have  been  fighting  together  side 
by  side,  each  one  sacrificing  himself  for  his 
comrades,  without  respect  of  birth  or  rank, 
a  la  franfaise  ? 

Our  army  and  our  youth  are  now  setting  us 
an  example  of  the  loftiest  virtues,  human  as 
well  as  military,  virtues  which  will  be  neces- 
sary for  us  in  the  near  future,  just  as,  in  the 
present,  they  are  the  pledge  of  victory.  All 
honour  to  our  sons:  let  us  try  to  show  our- 
selves like  them  ! 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY 

Is  the  German  method  of  conducting  war 
the  result  of  that  philosophical,  artistic  and 
scientific  development  the  idealistic  greatness 
of  which  has  been  extolled  by  the  whole 
world  ?  Are  we  to  declare  inadequate  the 
morality  taught  by  Plato  and  Aristotle,  to 
preach  duty  for  duty's  sake,  to  set  up  the 
unconditional  supremacy  of  moral  worth,  and 
then  officially  declare  that  neither  legal  nor 
moral  laws  count  if  they  prove  troublesome 
and  our  -side  happens  to  be  the  stronger  ? 
What  are  we  to  think  of  a  people  which  gives 
the  world  the  most  wonderful  music,  wherein 
we  imagined  that  we  discerned  the  deepest  and 
purest  aspirations  of  the  soul,  a  nation  which 
sets  up  art  and  poetry  as  a  kind  of  religion 
whereby  man  holds  communion  with  the 
Eternal,  and  then  bombards  and  shells  libra- 
ries, churches,  and  cathedrals  ?  Germany 
has  assumed  the  role  of  the  one  supreme 
representative  of  culture,  of  civilization  in  its 
90 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  91 

highest  form,  and  yet  it  is  her  object  to  en- 
slave the  world  by  the  methodical  and  un- 
bridled exercise  of  brute  force  1 

What  are  we  to  think  of  the  amazing  con- 
trast between  German  culture  and  the  ends 
aimed  at  as  well  as  the  means  employed  in  the 
present  war  ?  Is  it  sufficient  to  state  that 
the  Germans,  after  all,  are  but  partially  civil- 
ized, that  in  the  sixteenth  century  they  were 
still  rude  and  uncultured,  and  that  their 
Kultur,  confined  to  specialists  and  scholars, 
cannot  penetrate  into  the  soul  of  the  nation 
or  affect  its  character  ? 

In  Germany,  the  scholar  and  the  man  are 
too  frequently  strangers  to  each  other.  But 
it  is  not  simply  because  of  his  rude  and  violent 
nature  that  the  German  is  inhuman  in  war; 
it  is  because  he  is  ordered  to  be  so.  When  the 
Kaiser,  in  1900,  addressed  his  soldiers  as  they 
were  starting  for  China,  he  recommended 
them  to  leave  nothing  living  in  their  wake — 
to  behave  as  Huns. 

The  reason,  then,  that  the  Germans,  in  the 
way  they  have  prepared  and  provoked  and 
are  now  carrying  on  this  war,  unscrupulously 
violate  the  laws  of  the  civilized  world,  is  not 
that  they  do  so  in  spite  of  the  culture  of  which 
they  are  so  proud,  but  rather  by  virtue  of 


92  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

that  very  culture.  They  are  barbarians  be- 
cause they  have  received  a  superior  civiliza- 
tion !  How  is  such  a  combination  of  contra- 
dictory elements,  such  a  synthesis,  possible  ? 

In  his  famous  Speeches  to  the  German  Nation 
delivered  before  the  students  of  Berlin  in 
1807,  Fichte  deals  with  the  following  subject: 
the  rise  of  the  German  nation  by  making  it 
aware  of  its  pure  Germanic  essence  (Deutsch- 
heit]  and  the  realization  thereof  in  the  outer 
world.  The  general  idea  to  be  followed  in 
carrying  out  this  task  was  as  follows :  Germany 
is  to  the  foreigner  what  spirit  is  to  matter, 
what  good  is  to  evil. 

A  hearing  was  given  to  Fichte 's  appeal. 
During  the  century  that  followed,  Germany 
set  up,  on  the  one  hand,  the  theory  of  Ger- 
manism, or  Deutschtum,  and,  on  the  other, 
prepared  for  the  world-wide  domination  of 
Germanism. 

This  idea  of  Germanism  seems  to  afford  an 
explanation  of  the  unlooked-for  connection 
between  culture  and  barbarism. 

In  the  first  place,  how  comes  it  that  a  people 
claims  for  its  ideas,  its  virtues,  and  its  works, 
not  only  the  right  to  exist  and  be  respected  by 
other  peoples,  but  also  the  privilege  of  being 
the  sole  expression  of  goodness  and  truth, 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  93 

whereas  whatever  emanates  from  other  peoples 
represents  only  error  and  evil  ? 

In  order  to  infuse  new  life  into  the  soul  of 
Germany,  after  the  Battle  of  Jena,  Fichte 
thought  he  could  do  nothing  better  than 
persuade  her  that  within  herself — and  herself 
alone — there  existed  not  only  the  sense  of  the 
ideal,  but  also  the  power  of  realizing  this  ideal 
in  the  world . 

Soon  this  mystical  method  became  confused 
with  a  more  concrete  one,  better  suited  to  the 
positive  spirit  of  modern  times.  The  science 
which  combines  such  knowledge  and  ideas  as 
concern  human  life  is  called  history.  Now, 
the  Germans  have  learnt  two  lessons  of  the 
utmost  importance.  The  first  is  that  history 
is  not  only  the  sequence  of  events  in  the  life 
of  humanity:  it  is  also  the  judgment  of  God 
on  the  struggles  and  rivalries  of  nations.  All 
that  is  wills  to  be  and  to  endure;  it  makes  an 
effort  to  impose  itself  upon  things.  History 
informs  us  who  are  the  men  and  which  are  the 
things  chosen  by  Providence.  The  mark  or 
token  of  this  choice  is  success.  If  some  one 
people  seems  appointed  by  history  to  dominate 
the  rest,  this  people  is  God's  lieutenant  or 
vicegerent  on  earth,  God  himself,  visible  and 
tangible  to  his  creatures. 


94  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

The  second  lesson  the  Germans  have  learnt 
is  that  the  existence  of  a  people  appointed  to 
represent  God  is  no  myth,  but  that  such  a 
people  does  actually  exist  in  the  German 
people  itself.  Ever  since  the  victory  won  by 
Hermann  (Arminius)  over  Varus  in  the  year 
9  A.D.,  the  will  of  God  has  been  manifested. 
The  Middle  Ages  prove  this,  and  the  reason 
why  Germany,  in  modern  times,  has  appeared 
to  keep  in  the  background,  is  that  she  has 
been  gathering  herself  together,  to  gain  fresh 
strength  and  strike  with  greater  vigour. 

And  not  only  is  Germany  the  elect  of  Provi- 
dence: she  is  the  only  elect,  and  reprobation 
is  cast  on  all  other  nations.  The  proof  of 
such  election  is  the  destruction  of  the  legions 
of  Varus,  and  Germany's  task  is  to  take 
eternal  vengeance  on  the  Roman  general's 
insolence. 

German  civilization  grew  in  antagonism  to 
Graeco-Roman  civilization.  God's  adoption 
of  the  former  meant  his  rejection  of  the  latter. 
The  German  consciousness,  then,  in  its  full 
realization,  is  nothing  less  than  the  divine 
consciousness.  Deutschtum=God,  and  God  = 
Deutschtum.  In  practice,  if  an  idea  is  authen- 
tically German,  one  must  regard  it  as  a  duty 
to  affirm  that  it  is  true  and  just,  that  it  must 
prevail. 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  95 

What  essentially  is  this  truth,  which  is 
German  because  it  is  true,  and  true  because  it 
is  German  ?  It  is  explained  by  German 
metaphysicians  with  more  than  their  wonted 
clarity :  its  first  duty  is  to  be  opposed  to  what 
classic  or  Graeco-Latin  thought  recognizes  as 
true.  This  thought  has  always  endeavoured 
to  find  out  that  which,  in  man,  is  essentially 
human,  and  makes  him  superior  to  other 
beings.  It  has  also  tried  to  discover  the  means 
whereby,  in  human  life,  the  superior  element 
may  be  enabled  to  prevail  over  the  inferior 
element,  reason  over  blind  impulse,  justice 
over  force,  goodness  over  wickedness.  It  has 
assumed  the  task  of  creating  a  moral  force 
capable  of  governing  material  forces.  To 
this  doctrine,  which  had  man  as  its  centre  and 
was  essentially  human,  German  thought  is 
opposed,  as  the  infinite  is  to  the  finite,  the 
absolute  to  the  relative,  the  whole  to  the  part. 
The  disciples  of  the  Greeks  had  no  other  light 
than  that  of  human  reason;  German  genius 
possesses  a  transcendental  reason  which 
pierces  the  mysteries  of  the  absolute  and  the 
divine.  Now,  what  this  superhuman  reason 
discovers  is  that  non-being,  matter  and  evil, 
have  wrongfully  been  despoiled  by  classic 
reason  of  their  dignity  and  worth,  in  favour 
of  being,  intelligence  and  good. 


96  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Besides,  a  Grseco-Latin,  infatuated  with  his 
mediocre  logic,  may  find  satisfaction  in  affirm- 
ing that  good  is  good,  and  evil,  evil.  These 
simple  formulae,  however,  are  contrary  to 
truth  per  se.  Good,  of  itself,  is  powerless  to 
realize  itself;  it  is  a  mere  abstraction.  To  evil 
alone  belongs  the  faculty  of  creation.  Hence 
good  can  only  be  realized  through  evil,  evil 
wholly  unshackled.  God  cannot  be,  unless  he 
is  created  by  the  devil.  Thus,  in  a  way,  evil 
is  good  and  good  evil.  Evil  is  good  because  it 
creates;  good  is  evil  because  it  arrogates  to 
itself  a  power  which  it  does  not  possess.  Only 
by  releasing  the  powers  of  evil  has  one  the 
chance  of  realizing  some  good. 

Starting  from  these  metaphysical  prin- 
ciples, the  questions  raised  by  the  idea  of 
civilization  are  answered  in  a  remarkable  way. 
What  is  civilization  in  the  true,  the  German 
meaning  of  the  word  ? 

Nations,  more  particularly  the  Latin 
nations,  regard  the  moral  element  in  life,  the 
refining  of  human  customs  and  relations,  as 
constituting  the  very  essence  of  civilization. 
To  those  who  interpret  culture  in  this  way,  the 
masters  of  German  thought  would  assuredly 
apply  the  following  words  from  Ibsen's 
Brand:  "  You  wish  to  do  great  things,  but  you 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  97 

lack  force;  you  expect  success  from  kindness 
and  gentleness."  According  to  Germanic 
thought,  kindness  and  gentleness  are  but 
weakness  and  impotence.  Force  alone  is 
strong,  and  the  one  pre-eminent  force  is 
science,  which,  placing  at  our  disposal  the 
powers  of  nature,  multiplies  our  force  ad 
infinitum.  From  science  and  the  culture  of  a 
scientific  intelligence  will  necessarily  result 
moral  progress.  True  civilization  is  a  virile 
education ;  it  employs  force,  and  has  force,  as 
its  objective.  A  civilization  which,  under  the 
cloak  of  humanity  and  politeness,  enervates 
man  and  makes  him  effeminate  is  suitable 
only  for  women  and  slaves. 

It  is  important  to  understand  the  relation 
that  exists  between  the  idea  of  right  and  that 
of  force.  Force  is  not  right.  A  universally 
victorious  and  omnipotent  force  would  form 
one  with  divine  force;  justice  and  force,  then, 
meet  at  one  point  and  one  point  only,  where 
both  are  absolute. 

Moreover,  justice  and  force  belong  to  two 
different  worlds,  the  natural  and  the  spiritual j 
The  former  is  the  symbol  of  the  latter,  and 
therefore  for  us  the  predominant  force  is  the 
visible  equivalent  of  right. 

Consequently,  it  is  childish  to  admit  the 

7 


98  PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

existence  of  a  natural  right  inherent  in  in- 
dividuals and  nations,  and  manifested  by  their 
prayers  and  aspirations,  sympathies  and  wills. 
The  rights  of  peoples  should  be  determined 
objectively. 

According  to  this  view,  peoples  are  dis- 
tinguished from  one  another  as  Naturvolker, 
Halbkulturvolker  and  Kulturvolker :  people  in 
a  state  of  nature,  people  half  cultured,  and 
people  cultured.  Again,  there  are  the  simply 
cultured,  Kulturvolker  and  the  fully  cultured, 
Vollkulturvolker .  Now,  degree  of  culture  de- 
termines measure  of  right.  To  the  Kultur- 
volker',  the  Naturvolker  have  no  rights,  only 
duties :  the  duties  of  docliity,  submission,  and 
obedience.  If  any  people  exists,  deserving 
the  title  of  Vollkulturvolk,  to  it  belongs 
supremacy  on  earth. 

Logic  proves  that  this  head  nation  must  not 
merely  be  an  abstract  type:  it  must  necess- 
sarily  find  its  realization  in  our  world.  And 
similarly  there  must  be  subordinate  nations. 
There  is  no  effective  yes  without  a  decided  no. 
The  self  is  effort,  says  Fichte;  thus  it  pre- 
supposes matter,  something  that  opposes  it. 
Since  the  head  nation  commands,  there  must 
be  nations  to  obey  it.  These  nations  must 
even  oppose  the  superior  nation,  for  opposition 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  99 

is  necessary  to  enable  it  to  develop,  to  become 
the  whole  by  enriching  itself  with  the  spoils 
of  its  enemies. 

On  the  German  nation  alone,  then,  falls  the 
task  of  doing  God's  work  on  earth.  How  is 
this  to  be  accomplished  ? 

First,  it  must  become  fully  conscious  of  its 
own  superiority.  Nothing  German  can  be 
found  elsewhere  in  like  excellence.  German 
women  and  German  fidelity,  German  wine 
and  German  song,  are  superior  to  all  others. 
Reciprocally,  the  best  of  everything  belongs 
to  Germany,  de  facto  or  de  jure.  Rembrandt, 
Shakespeare,  Ibsen,  are  German;  only  a 
German  brain  can  understand  or  have  the 
right  to  admire  them.  It  is  even  doubtful 
if  Joan  of  Arc  was  French;  learned  works 
have  been  written  to  prove  her  German 
nationality.  The  reason  that  the  inhabitants 
of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  are  faithful  to  France 
only  proves  that  they  must  be  German  sub- 
jects, for  fidelity  is  a  German  virtue. 

Germany,  therefore,  possessing  all  the  virtues, 
has  nothing  to  learn  from  other  nations,  and 
so  owes  them  neither  respect  nor  good-will. 
The  word  humanity  has  no  meaning  to  a 
German,  who  is  conscious  that  he  is  himself 
the  one  supreme  human  being.  When  the 


ioo          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Kaiser  says:  "  To  my  mind,  humanity  does 
not  exist  beyond  the  Vosges,"  he  imagines 
that  everything  outside  his  empire  is  valueless 
until  it  is  annexed  thereto. 

What  must  be  Germany's  attitude  towards 
other  nations  ? 

Some  peoples  inspire  love,  consider  that 
politeness  is  possible  between  nations  as  well 
as  individuals,  and  regard  the  possibility  of 
justice  regulating  international  relationships 
as  n  step  forward.  The  German,  however, 
in  dealing  with  other  nations,  does  not  take 
justice  into  consideration;  he  feels  but  scorn 
for  that  feminine  sentimentality  which  char- 
acterizes the  Latin  races  more  particularly. 
Sentiment,  the  solicitude  for  justice  and 
humanity,  is  weakness.  Germany  is,  and 
must  be,  force. 

The  German  does  not  ask  to  be  loved;  he 
prefers  to  be  hated,  provided  only  he  inspire 
fear.  Oderint  dum  metuant.  He  finds  satis- 
faction in  the  fact  that  certain  annexed  pro- 
vinces continually  protest  against  the  violence 
they  have  been  subjected,  for  he  needs  enemies 
in  order  to  maintain  himself  in  that  state  of 
tension  and  strife  which  is  the  condition  of 
vigour. 

Now,  two  methods  are  open  for  the  domina- 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  101 

tion  of  other  nations.  The  first  is  intimida- 
tion, which  must  never  slacken.  If  we  forget 
to  remind  the  feeble  of  their  weakness,  they 
become  insolent.  Other  nations  must  lie 
under  the  ban  of  dire  catastrophe  if  they 
oppose  Germany.  All  the  same,  smooth 
methods  and  offers  of  service,  bargains  advan- 
tageous even  to  the  other  side,  may  prove  less 
troublesome  processes  than  violence  for  the 
purpose  of  reaching  the  goal.  Germany,  then, 
will  be  in  turn — or  even  simultaneously — 
threatening  and  affable. 

The  thing,  therefore,  of  supreme  importance 
is  power.  Germany  must  possess  mightier 
armaments  than  all  other  nations,  for  is  not 
the  German  Empire  the  rock  of  peace — der 
Hort  des  Friedens  ?  Since  Germany  is  the 
very  incarnation  of  peace,  she  may  legitimately 
arm  herself  to  the  teeth.  Her  enemies,  how- 
ever, cannot  have  the  same  right;  they  can 
only  arm  themselves  in  so  far  as  Germany 
authorizes  them  to  do  so. 

Far  from  seeking  war,  Germany,  by  inspiring 
terror,  endeavours  to  make  war  impossible. 
But  if  any  nation  either  benefits  or  is  likely 
to  benefit  from  its  love  of  peace,  and  thus 
asserts  rights  that  incommode  Germany,  she 
inflicts  punishment  on  that  nation,  though 


102         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

reluctantly.  As  God's  vicegerent  she  must 
fulfil  her  mission,  and  the  nation  that  refuses 
to  do  her  will  proves  thereby  its  "  cultural  " 
inferiority  and  its  culpability. 

Though  war  is  a  reversion  to  a  state  of 
nature,  Germany  regards  herself  as  compelled 
to  resort  to  this  temporary  retrogression,  be- 
cause she  has  to  deal  with  nations  of  inferior 
culture.  Now,  it  is  the  untrammelled  rule  of 
force  that  characterizes  a  state  of  nature. 
Why  talk  of  romantic  chivalry  and  introduce 
sentimentality  ?  Krieg  ist  Krieg — it  is  no 
child's  game.  Why  try  to  reconcile  or  har- 
monize barbarism  and  humanity  ?  Man  qua 
man  suffers  in  reverting  to  the  state  of  a 
barbarian,  but  the  man  who  represents  God 
cares  nothing  for  the  weakness  of  the  creature. 

The  first  article,  then,  in  the  code  of  war  is 
the  suppression  of  everything  akin  to  pity  or 
to  humanity.  The  more  a  soldier  kills  and 
destroys,  the  more  does  war  assume  an  ideal 
form.  Besides,  it  is  the  more  truly  human 
in  proportion  as  it  is  inhuman,  since  the  terror 
inspired  b}*-  its  excesses  makes  it  all  the 
shorter,  and  so  less  deadly  than  if  it  were 
prolonged. 

In  the  second  place,  war  necessarily  takes 
no  account  of  moral  laws.  Respect  for 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  103 

treaties  and  conventions,  loyalty,  fidelity, 
honour,  scruples,  generosity,  nobility  of  soul 
are  so  many  shackles;  the  God-nation  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  them.  It  will, 
therefore,  unhesitatingly  violate  the  rights  of 
neutrals  if  benefit  is  to  be  gained  by  such  a 
policy;  it  will  employ  methods  of  lying  and 
treachery  and  will  advance  futile  or  false  pre- 
texts for  committing  the  most  atrocious  acts. 
In  short,  the  object  aimed  at  is  to  liberate  the 
elementary  energies  of  nature,  to  expend  the 
maximum  of  force  and  obtain  the  maximum 
of  result. 

The  aim,  too,  must  be  as  psychological  as 
it  is  material.  Deeds  universally  condemned 
as  horrible,  spreading  terror  and  dismay  every- 
where, are  to  be  recommended  because  they 
crush  the  very  souls  of  men,  however  worth- 
less they  may  be  from  a  military  point  of  view. 

As  the  agents  of  divine  vengeance,  the 
Germans  force  their  enemies  to  expiate  the 
crime  of  resisting  them.  But  if  the  enemy 
is  so  insolent  as  to  recapture  a  town  they  have 
taken,  the  responsibility  for  subsequent  sack- 
ing and  the  murder  of  the  inhabitants  falls 
entirely  on  the  rebels. 

Granted  that  the  problem  is  to  release,  as 
speedily  as  possible,  all  the  powers  of  evil, 


io4          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

manifestly  a  people  of  superior  culture  is 
better  able  to  solve  it  than  any  other.  Science 
offers  the  means  of  turning  to  evil  and  de- 
struction the  forces  that  nature  can  utilize 
only  in  creating  light  and  heat,  life  and  beauty. 
The  God-people,  then,  combines  the  maximum 
of  science  with  the  maximum  of  barbarism. 

Such  is  the  final  word  of  Germanism.  Now, 
there  is  a  clear  identity  between  these  conse- 
quences of  the  doctrine  and  the  characteristics 
of  the  present  war,  and  so  our  problem  is 
solved,  and  German  culture  is  vastly  different 
from  what  mankind  generally  understands  by 
culture  and  civilization,  which  endeavour  to 
humanize  even  war  itself.  German  culture 
tends  logically,  by  means  of  science,  to  in- 
tensify and  increase  its  original  brutality 
indefinitely. 

Having  reached  the  amazing  conclusion  that 
everything  German  must  be  unique,  the  world 
anxiously  asks  itself  what  are  to  be  its  rela- 
tions with  Germany  after  the  war.  Every 
veil  is  now  rent  asunder,  and  German  culture 
is  seen  to  be  nothing  else  than  scientific  bar- 
barism. With  such  despotism,  the  world, 
which  means  to  shake  off  every  kind  of  servi- 
tude, will  never  be  able  to  make  terms. 

And   yet    what    deception    and    sorrow    is 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  105 

ours  !  Until  the  outbreak  of  war  Germany 
was  regarded  as  a  great  nation;  her  praises 
were  sung  everywhere.  We  find  that  German 
tradition  contained  other  doctrines  than  those 
we  have  seen  growing  up  beneath  the  influence 
of  Prussia.  Whereas  Germanism,  as  formu- 
lated by  the  Prussians,  consists  essentially  in 
despising  other  nations  and  claiming  to  domin- 
ate them,  Leibnitz  professed  a  philosophy 
which  valued  unity  only  as  a  harmonious 
blend  of  free  and  autonomous  powers.  Leib- 
nitz exalted  the  multiple,  the  diverse,  the 
spontaneous.  He  endeavoured  to  set  up 
between  rival  powers  such  relations  as  would 
reconcile  them  with  each  other  without  dimin- 
ishing their  worth  or  independence;  thus  we 
have  his  efforts  to  unite  the  Protestant  and 
the  Catholic  churches.  After  Leibnitz  came 
Kant,  who  acknowledged  that  Rousseau  had 
taught  him  to  honour  the  ordinary  man, 
though  ignorant,  if  he  possesses  moral  worth, 
rather  than  the  scholar,  whose  only  merit  was 
his  science.  Starting  from  the  principle  that 
all  men  are  deserving  of  respect  according  to 
their  moral  worth,  he  calls  upon  mankind  to 
create,  not  a  universal  and  despotic  monarchy, 
but  a  republic  of  nations,  each  with  a  free  and 
independent  personality  of  its  own. 


io6         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

This  disposition  to  set  freedom  before  unity, 
and  consequently  to  respect  and  honour  the 
dignity  of  other  nations  whilst  serving  one's 
own,  did  not  die  out  in  Germany  with  Leibnitz 
and  Kant.  Allow  me  a  few  personal  remarks 
on  this  point. 

In  1869  I  went  to  Heidelberg,  on  a  Govern- 
ment mission,  for  the  purpose  of  studying  and 
acquiring  first-hand  knowledge  of  the  organi- 
zation of  the  German  Universities.  To  me 
Germany  was  the  land  of  metaphysics,  of 
music  and  poetry.  Great  was  my  amaze- 
ment to  find  that  the  sole  object  of  conversa- 
tion, except  amongst  the  so-called  lower 
classes,  was  the  war  which  Prussia  was  about 
to  wage  on  France.  At  an  evening  party,  I 
heard  someone  whisper  behind  me :  "  Vielleicht 
1st  er  ein  franzosischer  Spion  "  (Perhaps  he 
is  a  French  spy) .  At  a  restaurant  frequented 
by  students,  one  of  them  sat  down  by  my 
side,  and  said  to  me :  "  We  are  about  to 
wage  war  on  France ;  we  shall  take  from  you 
Alsace  and  Lorraine."  At  the  University 
itself,  Treitschke's  classes,  attended  by  a 
number  of  excited  students,  were  simply  in- 
flammatory harangues  against  the  French, 
incitements  to  hatred  and  war.  After  a 
three  months'  stay,  I  returned  to  Paris,  con- 
vinced that  hostilities  were  on  the  point  of 


WAR  AND  SOPHISTRY  107 

breaking  out.  On  a  subsequent  visit,  I  found 
that  public  opinion  was  torn  between  two 
conflicting  doctrines.  The  unity  of  Germany 
was  the  object  of  general  aspiration;  there  was 
no  agreement,  however,  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  this  unity  was  to  be  conceived  and 
realized. 

Treitschke's  theory  was:  Freiheit  durch 
Einheit  (Freedom  through  unity) — i.e.,  unity 
first  and  above  all  else,  freedom  afterwards, 
when  circumstances  should  allow  one  to 
think  of  it;  and,  for  the  realization  of  this 
unity,  the  enrolment  of  Germany  under 
Prussian  rule,  in  view  of  war  with  France. 
Now,  against  Treitschke's  formula  stood  that 
of  Bluntschli:  Einheit  durch  Freiheit  (Unity 
through  freedom).  This  doctrine  tended  first 
to  safeguard  the  independence  and  equality  of 
the  German  States,  and  then  to  establish  a 
sort  of  federative  union  between  them.  And 
just  as  it  advocated  a  union  without  hegemony 
in  the  heart  of  Germany,  so  did  it  conceive 
of  German  unity  as  something  that  must  be 
effected  without  offending  other  nations,  more 
especially  without  threatening  France.  There 
was  to  be  a  free  Germany  in  a  free  world. 

At  this  period  Germany  had  come  to  a 
parting  of  the  ways.  Was  she  to  follow  her 
own  tendency  and  natural  trend,  as  many 


io8          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

noble  hearts  and  minds  would  have  preferred, 
or  was  she  wholly  to  give  in,  and  to  advance, 
with  bowed  head,  along  the  path  traced  out 
by  Prussia:  that  was  the  question.  The  war 
party,  the  party  that  favoured  unity  as  the 
means  of  attacking  and  plundering  France, 
won  the  day,  and  success  made  its  preponder- 
ance a  definite  one.  From  that  day,  those  who 
claim  to  have  remained  faithful  to  an  ideal 
of  freedom  and  humanity  have  literally  been 
crushed  out. 

Is  it  possible  that  Germany  may  some  day 
return  to  the  crossway  where  she  found  herself 
previous  to  1870,  and  this  time  strike  out 
another  path,  that  of  such  men  as  Leibnitz, 
Kant,  and  Bluntschli,  a  path  leading  first  to 
individual  and  national  freedom,  and  after- 
wards— but  only  afterwards — proceeding  to- 
wards a  state  of  union  and  harmony  in  which 
the  rights  of  all  are  respected  alike  ? 

There  enters  my  mind  a  phrase  used  by  the 
Scottish  professor,  William  Knight :  "  The  best 
things  have  to  die  and  be  reborn."  The 
Germany  that  was  respected  and  admired  by 
the  wrhole  world,  the  Germany  of  Leibnitz 
and  Goethe,  appears  to  be  dead  indeed:  will 
she  be  reborn  ? 


PATRIOTISM  AND  WAR 

IT  was  a  favourite  saying  of  Hippolyte  Taine 
that  men  but  imperfectly  know  themselves, 
that  the  pressure  of  circumstances  is  needed  to 
bring  about,  both  in  their  own  eyes  and  in 
those  of  others,  what  has  lain  concealed  deep 
in  their  hearts;  and  that  a  man,  who  regarded 
himself  as  timid,  proves,  in  the  hour  of  trial, 
to  be  a  hero ;  whereas  another,  who  considered 
himself  a  great  hero,  is  found  to  be  a  very 
ordinary  person  indeed.  This  theory  applies 
particularly  to  France.  Because  we  do  not 
keep  this  in  mind,  we  glibly  talk  of  moral 
revolutions  in  such  and  such  a  sphere  of 
thought,  revolutions  the  scene  of  which  fre- 
quently is  France  herself.  Of  course,  France 
passes  through  transitional  periods,  like  every- 
thing that  lives,  but  she  probably  remains 
herself  far  more  than  men  of  letters  affirm. 

French  patriotism,  which  raised   up    Joan 
of  Arc,  which  supported  Louis  XIV.  in   1709 
and  built  up  the  armies  of  the  Republic,  is  not 
109 


no          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

dependent  upon  any  event.  It  is  one  with  the 
soul  of  France.  All  the  same,  it  manifests 
itself  more  or  less  and  offers  different  aspects 
according  to  the  period;  along  these  lines  it 
is  interesting  to  study  both  its  recent  and  its 
present  manifestations. 

In  the  years  that  immediately  preceded  the 
Dreyfus  affair,  it  might  have  been  imagined 
that  patriotism  was  somewhat  somnolent  in 
the  soul  of  the  younger  generations.  Social 
and  religious,  economic,  literary  and  educa- 
tional questions  seemed  to  take  up  their  whole 
attention.  About  1898,  in  connection  with 
the  Dreyfus  affair,  a  distinct  change  came 
about.  Those  who  called  themselves  Nation- 
alists assumed  pre-eminently  the  role  of 
defenders  of  the  French  fatherland ;  they  relied 
mainly  on  tradition,  and,  turning  their  gaze 
upon  the  past,  required  that  France  should 
win  back  the  glorious  role  in  the  world  which 
she  had  played  in  former  times.  Others,  no 
less  patriotic  from  their  own  point  of  view, 
were  especially  eager  to  emphasize  and  cause 
to  triumph  the  ideal  of  justice  and  humanity, 
wherein  they  saw  the  very  heart  of  the  patri- 
mony of  France. 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  in  the  intel- 
lectual world  when,  in  1905,  Germany  showed 


PATRIOTISM  AND  WAR  in 

herself  hostile  in  the  question  of  Morocco.  At 
that  time  there  was  a  very  distinct  impression 
that  the  threats  of  war  frequently  uttered  by 
this  Power  were  not  mere  intimidation,  but  that 
she  had  really  made  up  her  mind  to  use  force 
in  order  to  carry  out  her  ambitious  projects. 
Then,  more  especially  in  the  younger  genera- 
tion, whose  minds  are  free  from  theories  and 
prejudice,  there  arose  a  patriotism  which  was 
more  practical  and  less  interested  in  differences 
than  that  of  preceding  generations.  The 
Nationalists  claimed  the  support  of  history, 
and  the  Rationalists  that  of  philosophy:  the 
new  generations,  above  all  else,  felt  the  im- 
press of  these  events.  And,  in  place  of  an 
abstract  or  historical  patriotism,  their  minds 
accepted  one  that  was  essentially  concrete  and 
living,  in  which  the  doctrinal  oppositions  that 
had  recently  roused  so  many  and  such  ardent 
struggles  were  effaced.  These  young  people 
were  more  sparing  of  speech;  their  souls 
were  filled  with  a  dual  feeling.  First,  they 
had  a  very  clear  vision — a  sensation,  almost, 
of  the  possibility,  or  even  probability,  with- 
in a  near  period,  of  this  war,  which  had 
been  —  mostly  theoretically  —  discussed  by 
their  predecessors.  Secondly,  they  accepted 
the  idea  of  this  possibility  in  a  spirit  of 


ii2          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

determined  calm,  of  bravery  devoid  of  the 
faintest  tinge  of  braggadocio,  in  the  serious 
and  well-thought-out  hope  of  seeing  the 
fatherland,  finally  and  completely  cleared  of 
the  humiliation  its  foes  had  claimed  to  inflict 
upon  it  by  the  Treaty  of  Frankfort,  resume 
again,  with  fresh  authority,  its  role  as  the 
defender  of  justice  and  liberty  throughout 
the  world. 

Such  were  the  sentiments  that  filled  the 
minds  of  our  youth  when  the  war  broke  out. 
They  left  their  homes  full  of  ardour  and 
enthusiasm,  their  minds  quite  made  up. 
They  kept  their  heads  admirably,  and  the 
spirit  of  bravado  was  altogether  absent.  The 
manner  in  which  hostilities  had  been  entered 
upon  added  to  the  provocation  they  had 
received,  made  them  aware  that  Germany, 
relying  on  her  power  which  she  regarded  as 
invincible,  meant  to  dominate  the  whole  world, 
to  recognize  no  other  law  than  her  own  arbi- 
trary will.  They  were  happy  and  proud  to 
feel,  in  accordance  with  French  tradition,  that 
they  were  not  only  soldiers  of  France,  but 
soldiers  of  the  world;  not  only  defenders 
of  their  country,  but  also  champions  of  the 
rights  of  all  nationalities. 

Meanwhile  the  war,  as  it  developed,  daily 


PATRIOTISM  AND  WAR  113 

brought  clearer  revelations  of  what  the 
German  mind  had  evolved  into.  The  attitude 
adopted  in  1870,  though  insolent  enough,  was 
now  left  far  behind.  First,  Germany  officially 
professed  to  trample  under  foot  all  law  and 
convention,  though  signed  by  herself,  if  she 
regarded  it  as  an  obstacle  to  her  freedom  of 
action.  Afterwards,  as  a  matter  both  of 
doctrine  and  of  system,  she  put  systematically 
into  practice  such  methods  as  treachery, 
cruelty  and  malice.  It  was  clearly  her  in- 
tention, not  so  much  to  conquer,  as  to  kill  and 
destroy,  simply  that  she  might  take  the  place 
of  the  nations  inhabiting  the  territorities  she 
had  conquered.  Her  idea  was  to  destroy  the 
race,  and  so  she  found  satisfaction  in  shooting 
down  women  and  children.  Under  the  most 
futile  and  false  pretexts  she  set  fire  to  buildings 
which,  by  reason  of  their  artistic  beauty  and 
of  the  memories  they  evoke,  are  symbols  and 
centres  of  a  people's  nationality.  She  gave 
forth  that  her  ideal  was  no  longer  simply 
Germany  over  all  (Deutschland  fiber  alles),  but, 
rather  Germany  mistress  of  All  and  exploiting 
this  All  to  her  own  advantage. 

A  clear  understanding  of  these  things  brought 
about  a  remarkable  trend  of  mind,  more  espe- 
cially in  the  youth  of  France.  Henceforth, 


ii4          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

how  unreal  and  uninteresting  became  our 
political,  our  academic,  and  even  our  social 
dissensions,  in  presence  of  the  terrible  danger 
threatening  us — and  the  whole  world  also ! 
Our  young  soldiers'  letters  tell  of  a  sympathetic 
understanding,  a  spirit  of  solidarity,  a  sense  of 
common  duty,  which  effaces  all  difference  of 
opinion.  The  questions  which  interested  us 
so  much  but  a  few  weeks  ago  are  now  no  more 
than  abstractions,  or,  at  all  events,  are  of 
secondary  importance,  incapable  of  producing 
dissension  in  a  healthy  nation.  But  France 
is  our  very  self,  our  very  existence,  both  in  the 
present  and  the  future.  Could  it  really  be 
possible  that  our  sons  should  have  no  other 
alternative  than  to  disappear  or  to  become 
German  ?  Some  day,  assuredly,  France  will 
endeavour,  with  all  her  strength  of  heart  and 
mind,  to  fashion  her  life  in  the  way  most 
favourable  to  the  liberty  and  concord  of  all 
her  children.  At  present,  the  question  for  her 
is  to  continue  in  existence,  to  save  herself  from 
shame  and  slavery,  misery  and  death.  This 
thought  dominates,  crushes  out  every  other, 
nor  does  the  impression  it  is  making  in  the 
soul  of  the  nation  show  any  sign  of  diminishing, 
Under  the  influence  of  such  emotions  as 
these,  the  distinction  between  a  traditional 


PATRIOTISM  AND  WAR  115 

patriotism  and  a  rationalistic  patriotism  com- 
pletely disappears.  It  is  only  too  evident 
that  the  preservation  of  France  is  necessary 
for  upholding  the  ideal  to  which  she  has  conse- 
crated herself.  Reciprocally,  confronted  by 
the  spectacle  offered  us  by  Germany,  how  can 
we  help  feeling  greater  love  than  ever  for  this 
France  of  ours,  which,  throughout  her  whole 
history,  has  proved  herself  a  lover  of  moral 
greatness,  of  beauty  and  generosity  ? 

Thus,  moral  unity,  of  which  so  much  has 
been  said  in  recent  years,  has  become  an 
accomplished  fact  in  the  souls  of  our  youth; 
the  heart  of  France,  ever  youthful  and  valiant, 
beats  with  one  throb  in  the  breasts  of  all  men. 

In  such  extraordinary  circumstances,  along 
what  lines  will  this  common  patriotism 
run  ? 

One  definition  of  patriotism  is,  strangely 
enough,  the  hatred  of  other  nations.  And 
we  must  acknowledge  that  Germany  would 
really  appear  to  interpret  it  in  this  sense.  She 
takes  pleasure  in  being  detested,  and  measures 
her  power  and  superiority  by  the  violence  of 
the  hatred  she  excites. 

At  the  present  time,  she  delights  in  the  cries 
of  horror  to  which  her  lack  of  faith,  her  cold, 
calculated  barbarity,  her  profanation  of  the 


ii6          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

names  of  God  and  of  divine  mission,  have  com- 
pelled mankind  to  give  utterance. 

Will  France  be  influenced  by  such  examples 
as  these  ?  Assuredly,  it  would  be  only  too 
natural  to  return  cruelty  for  cruelty,  destruc- 
tion for  destruction.  When  all  reflective  will 
is  absent,  one's  instinct  inclines  to  vengeance 
and  reprisals.  The  German  people,  itself,  is 
essentially  vindictive. 

How,  confronted  with  such  a  foe,  can  one 
help  saying:  "  An  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth 
for  a  tooth  "?  It  is  not  likely,  however,  that 
France  will  act  in  accordance  with  this  in- 
stinctive reply.  Our  youth,  more  particularly 
in  the  midst  of  their  awful  trials,  think 
that  in  order  to  defend  France  we  ought  to 
feel  inspired  with  the  spirit  of  France.  Now, 
the  patriotism  of  Joan  of  Arc,  of  Turenne, 
and  of  the  armies  of  the  Revolution,  was  not 
based  on  hatred.  It  was  essentially  rooted 
in  love  for  France,  in  the  desire  to  see  her 
free  and  great,  beautiful  and  glorious.  France, 
from  the  times  spoken  of  in  the  chansons  de 
gestes  on  to  the  present  time,  has  ever  meant 
the  union  of  a  generous  heart  and  a  clear 
reason.  Nor  has  the  importance  attributed 
to  delicate  and  lofty  feelings  been  a  source  of 
weakness  to  our  country.  Bismarck  affirmed 


PATRIOTISM  AND  WAR  n; 

that  the  amiability  of  the  French  was  more  to 
be  dreaded  than  all  their  cannons. 

It  must  be  granted  that,  when  the  de"noue- 
ment  comes,  we  cannot  conceive  how  it  will 
be  possible  to  deal  with  a  nation  whose  claim 
it  is  that  a  treaty  which  it  has  signed  is,  in 
its  eyes,  but  a  paltry  "scrap  of  paper  ";  a 
nation  which,  in  the  clandestine  constructions 
it  set  up  on  our  own  territory  in  a  time  of 
peace,  for  the  bombarding  of  our  towns,  has 
shown  that  it  makes  no  distinction  between  'a 
state  of  peace  and  one  of  war.  There  will 
then  be  a  great  temptation  to  place  outside 
the  law  a  nation  which  actually  sets  itself 
above  all  law.  France,  however,  will  not 
apply  the  German  standard  to  Germany  her- 
self. If  fortune  favours  the  arms  of  the  allied 
and  friendly  armies,  to  render  incapable  of 
inflicting  harm  a  nation  which  acknowledges 
no  other  right  than  that  of  might  will  certainly 
be  of  the  first  importance ;  but  once  the  security 
of  the  world  is  assured,  the  patriotism  of  the 
French  will  remain  French  to  the  very  end. 


FRANCE: A  FORTRESS 

IT  is  related  that  General  von  Falkenhayn, 
when  receiving  some  war  correspondents  a 
short  time  ago,  said  to  them:  "  We  find  our- 
selves in  the  following  situation :  we  are  be- 
sieging the  fortress  France."  And,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  whilst  each  of  the  two  armies 
is  besieging  the  other  out  in  the  open,  the 
whole  of  France  has  become  transformed  into 
a  fortified  camp,  wherein  all  arrangements 
have  been  made  to  hold  out  for  an  indefinite 
period. 

How  has  such  an  event  come  about  ?  From 
the  earliest  days  of  our  history,  it  has  been 
taken  for  granted  that  we  were  quite  power- 
less in  defensive  warfare.  Even  in  our  own 
country  there  has  long  been  a  saying  that 
"  Frenchmen  are  more  than  men  in  attack, 
but  less  than  women  in  retreat."  Not  only, 
affirmed  our  critics,  were  we  incapable  of  a 
patient  consecutive  effort,  of  tenacity  in 
resistance,  but  our  incurable  individualism 
118 


FRANCE:  A  FORTRESS  119 

inevitably  brought  about  division,  condemn- 
ing us  to  oppose  and  fight  one  another,  when- 
ever a  brilliant  onrush  to  victory  was  im- 
possible or  out  of  the  question. 

Now,  events  have  proved  that  we  have  been 
misjudged,  that  even  we  ourselves  knew  but 
imperfectly  what  we  were  capable  of  accom- 
plishing. An  event,  we  too  frequently  forget, 
is  the  great  revealer — or  rather  the  great  de- 
liverer— of  souls.  This  war,  now  being  waged 
on  a  vaster  scale  than  any  hitherto  known, 
has  manifested  to  the  whole  world,  as  well  as 
to  ourselves,  what  it  is  that  constitutes  the 
real  and  fundamental  basis  of  our  nature. 

In  place  of  the  rapid  and  striking  ex- 
ploits of  former  warfare,  it  has  substituted 
the  toilsome  and  monotonous  life  of  the 
trenches:  a  subterranean  immobility  in  mud 
and  gloom,  with  alternations  of  bitter  cold. 
The  deafening  and  continuous  crash  of  cannon, 
too,  is  altogether  alien  to  the  ordinary  condi- 
tions of  normal  life.  And  yet  our  soldiers 
retain  their  calmness  and  even  high  spirits, 
their  dash  and  eagerness  for  the  attack. 
Their  philosophy  may  be  summed  up  as 
follows:  "  It's  not  very  pleasant,  but  what 
does  that  matter;  we've  got  them  now  1" 

From  one  end  to  the  other  of  a  front  ex- 


120         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

tending  to  a  length  of  seven  hundred  kilo- 
metres there  is  but  one  united  force ;  no  initia- 
tive is  permitted  that  is  not  in  strict  sub- 
ordination to  the  general  plan  and  action. 
And  yet  these  men,  who  were  said  to  be 
stubborn  individualists,  submit  to  control  in  a 
spirit  of  perfect  unity,  and  show  forth  the 
qualities  of  docility,  endurance,  and  self- 
sacrifice,  without  losing  anything  of  their 
dash  and  buoyancy  of  spirit. 

The  country,  too,  has  risen  to  the  level  of 
the  army.  It  was  said  to  be  a  prey  to  irre- 
mediable divisions,  political  and  religious, 
social  and  even  national.  Our  very  enemies 
were  relying  on  civil  revolution  to  help  them 
in  the  struggle.  But  now  our  land  will  not 
have  its  attention  or  its  strength  turned  aside 
from  the  one  supreme  object  of  honourable 
existence,  nor  its  spirit  of  sacrifice  exploited 
on  behalf  of  any  party  whatsoever.  Spon- 
taneously, and  with  one  accord,  it  acts  after 
the  fashion  of  a  besieged  city.  The  army  is 
the  focus  and  centre  of  everything;  all,  accord- 
ing to  their  means,  heartily  and  obediently 
exert  themselves  to  provide  for  its  needs  and, 
to  the  extent  of  their  powers,  share  in  the 
performance  of  its  task.  Army  and  nation 
are  one  and  indivisible,  not  only  because  there 


FRANCE:  A  FORTRESS  121 

is  no  single  family  which  has  not  actually — 
or  which  is  not  ready  to — shed  its  blood  for 
home  and  country,  but  also  because  there  is 
not  a  citizen  who  is  not  living,  as  far  as  in 
him  lies,  the  very  life  of  the  army  itself.  The 
latter  need  not  be  concerned :  the  civilians  will 
support  it  with  might  and  main. 

It  is  chiefly  when  we  consider  how  this  unity 
has  come  about  that  we  arrive  at  an  under- 
standing of  the  essence  of  the  French  nature. 
Assuredly,  all  our  countrymen  thoroughly  well 
understand  what  strength  a  nation  receives 
from  these  two  indispensable  factors:  science 
and  discipline.  And  both  of  these,  at  the 
present  time,  are  held  in  greater  esteem  than 
ever.  All  the  same,  the  French  nature  needs 
something  more;  it  wants  not  only  to  know 
and  obey,  but  also  to  love.  It  conceives  of 
the  organization  of  material  and  moral  forces 
as  based,  in  the  final  issue,  on  mutual  confi- 
dence and  the  union  of  heart  with  heart.  In 
the  French  army,  soldiers  and  officers  are  not 
only  friends:  they  are  also  members  of  a 
hierarchy. 

There  is  a  fine  Slav  proverb  which  finds  a 
wonderful  application  in  those  who  are  now 
fighting  for  us:  "  On  the  spot  where  men  shed 
their  blood  in  common,  there  springs  up  a 


122          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

flower  whose  name  is  life-long  friendship." 
And  so  the  whole  nation  is  animated  by  a 
glowing  affection,  and  yet  at  the  same  time 
has  rigidly  become  subject  to  indispensable 
discipline.  No  material  fortress  is  the  German 
army  now  besieging,  but  rather  the  fortress 
"  France  " — i.e.,  a  united  band  of  hearts  and 
souls,  minds  and  wills. 

True,  this  very  characteristic,  in  the  eyes 
of  the  successors  of  Frederick  the  Second  and 
of  Bismarck,  is  a  sign  of  our  weakness  and 
inferiority.  Vauvenargues  said  :  "  Great 
thoughts  spring  from  the  heart."  Bismarck, 
however,  refused  to  consider  anything  but 
brute  force  or  cold  calculation;  he  compared 
feeling  or  sentiment  to  weeds  which  a  careful 
gardener  cuts  down  and  burns. 

Is  it  true  that  by  regarding,  as  realities 
deserving  of  our  love  and  devotion,  prin- 
ciples which  have  their  origin  and  source  in 
feeling  and  reason  alike,  such  as  fraternity  and 
sympathy,  generosity  and  honour,  fidelity  to 
the  pledged  word,  justice,  right  and  equity, 
respect  and  love  for  humanity  and  country, 
we  condemn  ourselves  to  play  no  other  part 
in  life  than  that  of  a  dupe  or  a  beaten  foe  ? 
That  is  the  question  now  troubling  men's 
minds.  .  .  We  await  the  result  with  the  utmost 


FRANCE:  A  FORTRESS  123 

confidence.  The  future  will  show  that  the 
heart  not  only  inspires  great  thoughts,  but  is 
the  source  of  a  mysterious  force  which,  in  the 
long  run,  reveals  itself  as  the  strongest  of  all 
forces . 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  FRANCE 

WHAT  is  the  spirit  in  which  my  country  is 
passing  through  this  terrible  war?  Clearly, 
in  such  times  as  these,  words  are  of  little  im- 
portance; it  is  deeds  that  are  the  real  argu- 
ments. And  it  is  advisable  that  we  judge 
France  by  her  conduct  in  the  immediate  past 
and  in  the  present.  If  we  would  be  faithful 
disciples  of  Descartes,  we  must  make  no 
attempt  whatsoever  to  court  the  good  opinion 
of  the  world  by  skilful  evasion,  for  we  recognize 
that  all  men  have  the  right — which  we  claim 
for  ourselves — to  bend  the  knee  to  truth 
alone. 

There  is  one  principle  which  it  is  important 
to  follow:  we  must  not  allow  trifling  facts,  or 
presumptions,  or  reasonings  of  any  kind,  how- 
ever subtle,  to  take  the  place  of  important 
facts  which  are  manifestly  self-evident.  The 
text  must  not  be  buried  beneath  a  mass  of 
commentaries. 

For  instance,  consider  the  attitude  of  France 
124 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  FRANCE          125 

previous  to  the  war.  When  did  this  one  of 
the  Great  Powers  depart  from  her  pacific  and 
conciliatory  attitude  ?  What  did  she  do  of  a 
nature  to  render  her  responsible,  in  the 
slightest  degree,  for  the  war  forced  upon 
her? 

We  have  often  read  that  France  wanted 
war  because  she  wanted  her  "  revenge."  The 
accusation  comes  strangely  indeed  from  the 
mouth  of  those  who,  even  in  these  days,  are 
crying  for  vengeance  on  Quintilius  Varus  and 
on  Melac ;  and  who,  from  the  time  of  the  Battle 
of  Leipzig,  have  never  ceased  singing:  "  Wir 
wollen  Rache  haben."  Besides,  it  is  devoid  of 
foundation.  As  regards  Alsace  and  Lorraine, 
it  is  anything  but  "  revenge  "  that  the  French 
claim;  the  affected  use  of  the  word  in  this 
connection  is  pure  sophistry,  intended  to  de- 
lude people.  The  facts  are  very  simple  and 
speak  for  themselves.  In  1871  the  representa- 
tives of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  said  to  France: 
"  Your  brothers  in  these  two  provinces,  who, 
for  the  time  being,  are  separated  from  the  one 
common  family,  will  ever  retain  a  filial  affec- 
tion for  absent  France,  until  she  comes  to  win 
back  her  former  place."  The  Alsatians  and 
the  Lorrains,  before  being  French,  had  indeed 
a  home,  "  Heimat,"  as  they  say  in  German, 


126         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

but  they  had  never  had  a  country  of  their  own, 
a  "  Vaterland."  France  is  the  first  and  only 
fatherland  they  have  ever  known.  They  have 
remained  faithful  to  France  and  she  has 
proved  herself  faithful  to  them. 

Since  1789,  moreover,  the  very  function  of 
France,  that  which  she  stood  for  throughout 
the  world,  has  been  the  affirmation  of  the 
right,  which  belongs  to  nations,  great  or  small, 
to  dispose  of  themselves  as  they  please. 
"  Damals,"  said  Goethe,  when  declaring  the 
good  news  which  the  Frenchmen  of  1792  had 
brought,  "  hoffte  jeder  sich  selbst  zu  leben  " 
(Then  at  last  every  man  hoped  to  live  his  own 
life).  He  added  that  this  thought  was  the 
loftiest  that  man  could  conceive:  "  das  hochste 
was  der  Mensch  sich  denkt." 

It  is  such  a  motive  that  an  attempt  is  being 
made  to  ridicule  by  calling  it  a  "desire  for 
revenge." 

But  then,  some  people  say,  to  uphold  the 
principle  of  nationality  was  to  wish  for  war, 
since  the  conquerors,  by  right  of  conquest, 
the  only  right  they  acknowledge,  as  also  by 
reason  of  their  might,  which  they  had  ren- 
dered formidable,  stated  that  they  were  deter- 
mined to  keep  their  prey. 

France  did  not  look  upon  the  right  of  force 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  FRANCE          127 

as  the  only  one  to  be  recognized  by  modern 
nations.  She  relied  on  the  Alsace-Lorraine 
question,  along  with  other  similar  questions, 
being  brought,  sooner  or  later,  before  an  inter- 
national tribunal,  and  on  the  differences  be- 
tween men  being  some  day  settled  by  justice 
in  a  society  which  claimed  to  attach  value 
to  Greek  culture  and  the  Christian  religion. 
And  she  set  to  work  to  develop  ideas  of  justice 
and  humanity  both  in  France  herself  and  in 
other  nations. 

It  is  this  principle,  which  they  took  upon 
themselves  to  defend  by  pacific  measures,  that 
the  French  are  now  upholding  and  defending, 
arm  in  hand. 

They  did  not  consider  whether  it  would 
have  been  better  for  them  to  put  up  with  the 
tutelage  of  their  powerful  neighbours,  for,  by 
adopting  such  an  attitude,  they  would  have 
lost  their  honour.  Given  the  way  in  which 
their  adversaries  stirred  up  and  waged  this 
war,  the  French  are  conscious  that  they  have 
undertaken  the  defence,  not  only  of  the  rights 
of  man  in  general,  but  also  of  the  right  of 
nations  to  independence,  dignity,  and  the  un- 
trammelled development  of  their  own  distinc- 
tive genius .  And  this  consciousness  is  awaken- 
ing within  them  the  zeal  and  ardour  they 


128         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

showed  in  1792,  whilst  a  calm  appreciation 
of  the  conditions  of  the  present  struggle  in- 
spires in  them  such  a  degree  of  constancy  and 
patience  as  no  difficulties,  however  great,  will 
be  able  to  crush. 

We  are  not  now  dealing  with  something 
akin  to  the  generous,  though  rash  and  un- 
steady, outbursts  of  passion  often  attributed 
to  the   French  of  former  days.     Our  deter- 
mination now  is  that  we  will  be  resolute  and 
immovable,  just  as  right  and  truth  are  im- 
movable and  invincible.     In  this  connection, 
may  I  mention  the  letters  daily  sent  to  me 
from  the  front  by  the  young  men  entrusted 
to  my  charge  in  normal  times  ?     They  show 
that  the  writers  are  brimming  over  with  en- 
thusiasm,   determination    and    good-humour. 
With  shells  bursting  all  around,  they  tell  me 
what  they  are  doing,  and  relate  their  impres- 
sions with  the  same  lucidity  and  mental  calm 
they  showed  when  studying  with  me.     One 
feels  that  it  is  real  happiness  for  them  to  fight 
in  a  cause  indisputably  noble  and  just,  and 
that  they  are  sure  this  same  feeling,  dominant 
in  all  hearts,  both  in  civil  life  and  in  the  army, 
will  give  France  the  perseverance  and  energy 
needed  to  carry  on  the  war  to  the  end. 

Yes,  indeed,  France  is  still  a  youthful  and 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  FRANCE          129 

enthusiastic  nation  fighting  for  an  ideal. 
Henceforth,  however,  she  will  be  as  deliberate 
and  thoughtful  as  she  has  always  been  full  of 
zeal  and  ardour.  As  one  of  her  proverbs  says, 
by  helping  herself,  indefatigably  and  with  all 
her  might,  she  calls  down  the  help  of  heaven. 


AFTER  THE  WAR 

THIS  is  a  subject  that  affords  ample  food  for 
reflection.  Is  it  not  one  of  the  characteristics 
of  war  that  it  focusses  all  our  thoughts  on  the 
present;  and  does  not  this  war  in  particular, 
by  reason  of  the  extraordinary  proportions  it 
has  assumed  and  the  really  vital  interests  it 
brings  into  action,  compel  us  to  postpone  all 
considerations  to  which  it  does  not  directly 
apply  ?  Whilst  the  house  is  on  fire,  do  we 
think  of  the  plan  on  which  it  is  to  be  re- 
built ?  In  the  midst  of  the  storm,  have  we 
the  leisure  necessary  for  speculating  on  the 
enterprises  we  intend  to  undertake  in  the 
event  of  our  surviving  ? 

Assuredly,  the  present  hour  is  a  tragic  one, 
and  we  shall  have  to  call  upon  our  utmost 
resources,  to  put  forth  our  best  efforts,  if  we 
are  to  rescue  our  country  from  an  enemy  who 
glories  in  acting  after  the  manner  of  the  Hun. 
More  than  ever  must  we  bear  in  mind  and 
strictly  apply  the  motto  of  General  Hoche: 
'3° 


AFTER  THE  WAR  131 

Age  quod  agis.  What  meaning  would  attach 
to  the  finest  theories  on  the  restoration  of 
France,  once  France  had  ceased  to  exist  ? 
Make  no  mistake:  this  war  is  not  a  mere 
episode  in  our  history,  it  is  in  very  deed  our 
existence  that  is  at  stake.  Whatever  does 
not  contribute  to  the  furthering  of  the  task 
in  hand  is  either  useless  or  harmful. 

All  the  same,  does  this  mean  that  we  must 
banish  from  our  mind  all  thought  of  the 
future  ?  Far  from  war  implying  forgetfulness 
of  the  future  in  favour  of  the  present,  it 
actually  has  that  very  future  as  its  essential 
object.  Such  especially  is  the  case  with  a 
war  like  the  present  one.  Had  we  thought 
only  of  ourselves,  we  should  have  found  it 
simpler  and  more  practical  to  adapt  ourselves 
to  circumstances.  After  all,  a  present  free 
from  war  and  revolution,  once  you  make  up 
your  mind  to  accustom  yourself  to  it,  is  always 
more  or  less  tolerable.  We  had,  however, 
acquired  the  certainty  that  the  trend  of  events 
threatened  our  descendants  with  a  state  of 
decadence  and  slavery,  and  so  we  flung  in  our 
lot  with  them.  We  prefer  to  suffer  that  they 
may  be  proud  and  free,  to  die  that  they  may 
live.  What  characterizes  such  a  war  as  this 
is  the  fact  that,  strictly  speaking,  it  sacrifices 


1 32          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

the  present  for  the  future.  But  it  is  not 
abjuring  the  present  to  think  of  a  future 
whereof  this  present  is  to  be  the  prepara- 
tion. 

Nor  are  we  thereby  diverting  a  portion  of  our 
forces  from  the  task  in  hand ;  for,  in  this  war, 
we  are  not  obeying  blind  instincts.  We  are 
a  thinking  nation,  a  reasoning  people,  and 
along  every  step  of  the  social  ladder  our 
soldiers  need  to  know  why  they  are  fighting. 
What  stronger  motive  can  we  conceive  than 
the  desire  to  safeguard  for  our  sons  their 
liberty  and  dignity,  the  possibility  of  living, 
thinking  and  acting  as  Frenchmen  ?  There 
is  a  profound  saying  of  Homer  that  the  desire 
for  our  children  to  excel  us  is  a  characteristic 
of  paternal  love.  To  work  for  the  glory  and 
greatness  of  posterity  is  the  task  most  cal- 
culated to  awaken  courage,  to  keep  alive  and 
develop  within  us  that  moral  strength  from 
whose  source  material  force  obtains  its  supply 
without  ever  exhausting  it. 

Life  after  the  war  should  not  be  inter- 
preted as  meaning  simply  the  life  we  shall  live 
when  the  war  has  come  to  an  end.  In  all 
probability,  the  war  will  be  a  long  one,  for 
we  are  invincibly  determined  that  it  shall 
create,  on  a  permanent  footing,  a  state  of 


AFTER  THE  WAR  133 

things  in  conformity  with  justice  and  the 
legitimate  aspirations  of  the  peoples  involved. 
Its  duration  must  be  subordinated  to  the 
result  aimed  at.  Consequently,  to  bring  about 
a  favourable  issue  to  the  war  itself,  it  is 
indispensable  that  we  should  not  regard 
present  trials  as  an  intolerable  break  in  our 
normal  lives,  but  rather  that  we  adapt  our 
lives  thereto  for  as  long  as  the  military 
authorities  require.  Only  by  continuing  to 
live  as  men  and  citizens  can  we  endure  as 
soldiers. 

The  life  of  to-morrow,  then,  is  above  all  the 
life  of  to-day  prolonged  for  an  unknown  period, 
and  made  as  tolerable  and  normal  as  possible, 
so  that  \ve  may  keep  up  and  increase  the  supply 
of  force  on  which  our  army  has  to  draw.  To 
live  to-day  is  the  only  means  whereby  we 
shall  be  able  to  live  to-morrow. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  setting  over  against 
each  other  war  and  life  as  two  contradictory 
things,  we  ought  to  do  our  best  to  draw  out 
from  war  itself  everything  it  contains  which 
is  conducive  to  the  maintenance  and  ameliora- 
tion of  life.  And,  according  to  this  view, 
the  services  that  war  can  render  us,  if  we 
only  use  them  intelligently,  are  many  and 
great. 


134          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 


I. 

War  is  destruction.  Our  enemies  massacre 
and  burn,  plunder  and  ruin,  in  a  way  that  can 
be  compared  with  nothing  less  than  the  fury 
and  madness  of  the  barbarians  of  old.  So 
many  human  lives  mown  down,  so  many 
monuments  and  masterpieces  of  the  past 
reduced  to  ashes,  so  much  wealth  destroyed, 
fill  us  with  stupor  and  a  sense  of  incurable 
sorrow  and  pain.  And  yet  all  these  sacrifices 
are  not  simply  the  cruel  ransom  of  that  victory 
of  right  and  civilization  we  are  determined  to 
effect  at  all  costs;  they  may,  in  certain  direc- 
tions, directly  contribute  to  a  better  state  of 
things  in  our  country. 

Not  all  that  exists  is  alike  worthy  to  con- 
tinue in  existence;  our  towns  and  villages 
contain  numbers  of  unhealthy  dwellings  which 
we  cannot  make  up  our  minds  to  demolish. 
We  hesitate  when  brought  face  to  face  with 
every  sort  of  difficulty  and  expense.  The 
war  has  brought  us  up  against  an  accomplished 
fact.  It  compels  us  to  reason,  not  a  potentia 
ad  actum,  but  ab  actu  ad  posse ;  it  teaches  us 
power  through  necessity,  instead  of  allowing 
us  to  remain  inert  because  we  imagine  we  can 


AFTER  THE  WAR  135 

do  nothing .  Unhealthy  or  inconvenient  houses 
and  buildings  will  be  replaced  by  constructions 
that  conform  with  the  laws  of  hygiene,  with  our 
everyday  needs,  habits,  and  tastes.  Many  a 
defective  condition  of  our  existence  will  thus 
be  improved,  because  reconstruction  will  not 
only  be  imposed  upon  us,  but  will  also  be  un- 
shackled in  its  action. 

And  not  only  will  some  particular  element 
in  life  thus  be  renewed  to  some  purpose:  our 
very  life  itself  will  be  reborn,  as  it  were.  A 
generous  nature  endeavours  to  repair  such 
losses  as  it  may  have  sustained.  By  a  kind 
of  natural  rhythm,  death  gives  birth  to  life 
After  1870  began  the  resurrection  of  France, 
which  threw  off  sturdy  shoots  in  every  direc- 
tion .  How  mighty  will  be  her  growth  when  this 
awful  trial  comes  to  an  end,  especially  with  the 
issue  favourable  to  us,  as  everything  leads  us 
to  believe  will  be  the  case !  Then  we  shall  have 
a  spontaneous  solution  of  that  redoubtable 
problem  of  the  birth-rate,  before  which  science 
and  social  and  legislative  action  have  shown 
themselves  powerless.  In  the  last  analysis, 
the  cause  of  a  low  birth-rate  lies  in  egoism, 
in  a  determination  to  think  only  of  the  present 
or  the  strictly  immediate  field  of  action. 
Along  with  confidence  in  the  future  and  a  vast 


1 36          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

far-reaching  perspective  arises  the  desire  to 
survive  in  one's  family,  to  become  great  and 
honoured  in  one's  descendants.  The  life 
which,  according  to  nature,  tends  to  per- 
petuate itself  is,  in  the  case  of  man,  checked 
by  the  dread  or  favoured  by  the  love  of  this 
very  perpetuity. 

And,  along  with  life,  we  shall  have  all  our 
creative  potencies  called  upon  for  develop- 
ment by  our  present  losses.  A  vast  career 
will  open  out  before  science,  before  art  and 
literature,  before  practical  activity  in  every 
form.  Assuredly,  too,  there  will  spring  up 
that  spirit  of  originality  and  novelty  which 
we  vainly  attempt  to  create  by  erudition  or 
by  the  will  to  be  original.  In  this  world  of 
ours,  which  is  subject  to  the  law  of  decay  and 
old  age,  there  is  but  one  way  to  restore  this 
spirit  of  youthfulness  which  pre-eminently  con- 
stitutes a  joyous  and  fruitful  life,  and  that  is 
to  die  and  be  born  again. 

II. 

In  finding  our  way  and  our  bearings  along 
this  new  phase  of  our  existence,  war  itself 
affords  the  most  valuable  information.  War 
is  not  simply  the  struggle  of  one  force  against 
another;  it  brings  into  play  every  faculty 


AFTER  THE  WAR  137 

possessed  by  man,  compelling  him  to  con- 
tract habits  that  will  interest  and  influence 
his  entire  life. 

These  are,  in  the  first  place,  physical  habits : 
sobriety,  endurance,  flexibility,  the  capacity 
for  extraordinary  effort,  a  resolute  resistance 
to  fatigue  and  suffering  of  every  kind. 
Measures  most  opposed  to  the  laisser-aller  and 
the  indifference  of  the  immediate  past  are 
now  accepted  without  opposition — the  pro- 
hibition of  absinthe,  for  instance.  Thus  dis- 
appear of  themselves  many  fictitious  and 
imaginary  needs,  which  we  regarded  as  neces- 
sities imposed  either  by  nature  or  by  civiliza- 
tion. In  one  direction,  civilization  is  the 
invention  of  innumerable  needs  that  are  either 
foreign  to  nature  or  fatal  to  it.  A  consider- 
able number  of  these  needs  are  so  many 
chains,  causes  of  weakness  and  frailty.  And 
yet,  lacking  all  these  superfluities,  we  have  no 
sense  of  privation  but  are  rather  conscious 
that  we  have  entered  once  again  into  full 
possession  of  our  powers  and  are  better  able 
to  use  them  in  the  performance  of  useful 
work. 

War  enables  us  to  appreciate  physical  quali- 
ties at  their  right  worth.  Of  course,  we  have 
often  heard  quoted,  more  especially  during  the 


138         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

last  few  months,  Juvenal's  famous  line:  Mens 
sana  in  corpore  sano.  And  its  meaning  is 
sometimes  exaggerated.  Now,  exaggeration 
is  self-betrayal.  The  saying  was  thought  to 
mean  that  a  healthy  body  makes  a  healthy 
mind.  But  Juvenal  himself  says  nothing  of 
the  kind;  he  does  not  abjure  Hellenic  spiritu- 
ality to  such  an  extent  as  that.  If  we  read  the 
context,  we  find  him  saying  that  man  ought 
to  desire  to  combine  health  of  mind  with 
health  of  body.  Assuredly,  the  body  pos- 
sesses a  virtue,  a  dignity  and  beauty  of  its  own, 
and  these,  per  se,  have  a  value  of  their  own, 
quite  as  much  as  the  qualities  of  the  soul.  It 
is  this  value  that  war  teaches  us  pre-eminently 
to  recognize.  In  this  respect,  it  gives  us  an 
education  far  superior  to  that  afforded  by 
gymnastics  or  even  sports.  These  latter  are 
more  or  less  external  to  our  normal  life ;  they 
do  not  readily  appeal  to  all,  and  they  lead  us 
to  look  upon  physical  qualities  as  qualities 
de  luxe,  praiseworthy  in  proportion  to  their 
singularity.  War  enables  us  to  set  an  alto- 
gether different  value  on  the  merits  of  the 
body.  It  makes  us  look  upon  physical  quali- 
ties as  necessary  for  all  and  on  all  occasions. 
It  enables  us  to  distinguish  between  qualities 
that  are  useful  and  substantial  and  a  virtu- 
osity devoid  of  object.  It  also  gives  us  a  keen 


AFTER  THE  WAR  139 

sense  of  the  intrinsic  and  absolute  value  of  a 
healthy,  vigorous,  and  beautiful  body,  the 
free  and  complete  unfoldment  of  nature's 
work.  Future  generations  will  not  need  to 
listen  to  erudite  lectures  dealing  with  the  cult 
of  physical  exercise;  they  will  practise  it  of 
their  own  free  will,  in  their  studies  and  games, 
in  their  daily  occupations  and  throughout  the 
whole  of  life. 

Not  only  is  war  a  physical  education : 
it  is  also  an  intellectual  education.  The 
danger  that  threatens  intellect,  in  schools 
and  academies,  is  that  it  takes  itself  as  an 
end — i.e.,  allows  itself  to  be  led  astray  by 
the  evidence  and  the  harmony  of  its  con- 
ceptions or  by  the  elegance  of  its  reasonings, 
and  thus  confuses  its  own  ideas  with  reality. 
That  intellect  which  feels  responsible  only 
to  itself  constantly  risks  plunging  into  one 
or  other  of  these  two  shoals:  dogmatism  or 
dilettantism.  In  war,  however,  this  dual 
danger  is  eliminated.  Here,  every  conception 
is  an  action,  and  every  action  is  immediately 
confronted  with  reality.  In  war,  a  false 
conception  or  a  sophistical  reasoning  con- 
stitutes a  defeat  or  a  disaster;  we  are  com- 
pelled never  to  think  except  in  terms  of  deeds, 
to  entertain  only  such  ideas  and  reasonings  as 
are  at  the  same  time  tangible  realities. 


140          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

The  discipline  that  war  imposes  on  thought 
is  as  precise  as  it  is  imperious.  With  regard 
to  every  single  undertaking,  we  must  first 
acquire  true  and  full  information.  Any  error, 
however  trifling  it  appear,  may  have  fatal 
consequences;  and  incomplete  information  is, 
in  itself,  erroneous  information.  It  is  an  easy 
matter  to  shine  in  an  academic  or  parliament- 
ary discussion  by  marshalling  a  few  skilfully 
chosen  facts.  In  war,  however,  as  in  mathe- 
matics, we  must  have  before  us  all  the  data 
of  the  problem,  without  exception,  if  we  would 
be  in  a  position  to  avoid  the  direst  catas- 
trophes. Neither  keenness  of  intellect  nor 
decision  and  energy  of  will  can  make  up  for 
lack  of  information. 

And  just  as  we  must  have  at  hand  the  whole 
of  the  facts  relating  to  the  matter  with  which 
we  are  dealing,  so  we  must  interpret  these 
facts  with  discernment.  Purely  mechanical 
reasoning  is  by  no  means  sufficient.  It  is 
especially  necessary  to  put  oneself  in  the  place 
of  one's  opponent  and  see  things  from  his 
point  of  view.  The  effort  necessary  involves 
reasoning  combined  with  a  sort  of  intuition, 
of  which  only  a  keen,  profound  sense  of  reali- 
ties that  are  not  only  physical,  but  also 
psychological  and  moral,  is  capable. 


AFTER  THE  WAR  141 

Thus  does  war  act  as  a  formative  influence 
on  the  mind,  by  maintaining  it  in  a  state  of 
perpetual  contact  with  facts.  It  accustoms  the 
mind  to  work  in  accordance  with  the  law  which 
is  the  condition  of  its  integrity  and  veracity 
— viz.,  by  closely  associating  and  combining 
with  one  another  intelligence,  reasoning  and 
intuition.  Instead  of  war  being,  as  is  some- 
times affirmed,  action  substituted  for  thought, 
it  is  largely  thought  itself,  which  acquires  all  its 
power  and  value  from  being  united  to  action. 

In  short,  war  is  manifestly  a  moral  educa- 
tion. 

From  the  very  beginning,  it  teaches  us  to 
put  earnestly  into  practice  that  duty  of  toler- 
ance as  regards  the  opinions  of  others  which 
we  have  so  much  trouble  to  carry  out  our- 
selves in  times  of  peace.  How  abstract  and 
superficial  now  appear  those  political,  reli- 
gious and  social  divisions  which  but  recently 
we  regarded  as  irremediable  !  Differences  of 
every  kind  deal  more  with  words  than  with 
things,  since  the  minds  and  hearts  of  all  alike 
are  now  aware  that  they  are  united,  that  they 
think  and  feel  the  same  regarding  the  primary 
conditions  of  our  honour,  even  of  our  very 
existence.  Who  could  persuade  that  they 
belong  to  different  camps,  these  soldiers  who 


142         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

meet  and  embrace  after  a  battle,  conscious 
that  a  common  trial  has  united  them  for  ever  ? 
In  these  times  of  patriotic  anxiety,  we  see 
that  it  is  quite  unnecessary  to  teach  men  of 
good-will  and  mutual  affection  to  tolerate  and 
bear  with  one  another.  They  do  more  than 
tolerate  one  another,  for  they  bring  together 
all  their  strength  and  thought,  heart  and 
experience,  to  the  performance  of  a  common 
duty. 

War  not  only  sets  free  our  souls  from  the 
selfish  or  artificial  passions  which  divide  them, 
it  also  teaches  us  positive  virtues :  decision 
and  intrepidity,  the  sacrifice  of  life  for  honour 
and  country.  The  present  war  possesses  this 
remarkable  characteristic:  it  inculcates  in  us 
those  modest  virtues  which  seem  in  accord 
with  the  temperament  of  our  race. 

It  called  for  patience,  and  this  people, 
which  was  regarded  as  incapable  of  silently 
bearing  painful  and  prolonged  trials,  is  calm 
and  determined,  and  will  remain  so  as  long  as 
this  is  necessary.  We  know  that  to  hold  on 
now  is  the  sure  guarantee  of  victory,  and  so 
we  willingly  assume  the  mental  attitude  re- 
quired by  circumstances. 

It  was  also  said  that  we  were  incapable  of 
devotion  in  an  obscure  cause;  and  yet  our 


AFTER  THE  WAR  143 

soldiers,  adapting  themselves  to  the  con- 
ditions of  this  war,  readily  forgo  brilliant 
exploits  the  only  result  of  which  is  to  cast 
a  halo  of  renown  over  particular  individuals. 
Both  soldiers  and  officers  understand  that 
their  role  is  to  participate  in  some  vast  general 
action;  and  they  consider  themselves  suffi- 
ciently rewarded  for  their  efforts  if  this  action 
proves  successful,  as  the  result  of  their  anony- 
mous collaboration. 

The  French,  it  was  affirmed,  were  incapable 
of  acting  in  this  collective  fashion.  Owing  to 
their  incurable  individualism,  their  vivacity  of 
mind  and  intellect  was  employed  in  attacking 
one  another.  Hence  their  remarkable  per- 
sonal worth  was  rather  a  hindrance  than  of 
use  to  them.  Napoleon  was  known  to  prefer 
a  bad  general  in  sole  command  to  two  good 
ones  who  were  not  of  one  mind.  The  present 
war  is  accustoming  the  French  to  co-operate 
together,  and  that  in  French  fashion. 

Germany,  assuredly,  has  shown  incompar- 
able powers  of  organization.  This  latter,  how- 
ever, works  solely  by  means  of  division  of 
labour,  each  individual  being  strictly  special- 
ized for  the  function  incumbent  upon  him. 
Here  man  is  literally  reduced  to  the  condition 
of  a  machine.  The  organization  is  wholly 


144          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

imposed  from  without  ;  it  is  the  result  of 
absolute  authority  which  brings  together  and 
co-ordinates  members  who  have  no  internal 
affinity  whatsoever  for  one  another. 

This  is  not  the  French  point  of  view. 
Through  all  the  differences  in  education  and 
capacity  required  by  the  necessary  division  of 
labour,  we  consider  that  the  community  of 
thought  and  feeling  which  characterizes  the 
members  of  one  and  the  same  family  should 
be  maintained.  We  think  that  a  strictly 
human  union  is  that  which  has  its  principle  in 
sympathy  and  the  close  understanding  of  soul 
by  soul.  Thus,  the  discipline  in  our  troops 
involves  both  strict  obedience  and  mutual 
confidence.  The  officer  commands,  and  in 
his  voice  there  is  as  much  affection  as  energy ; 
his  authority  implies  devotion  to  men  and 
country  alike.  The  men  obey,  and  in  doing 
so  they  espouse  the  idea  and  thought  of  the 
officer,  since  they  form  one  with  him  and 
know  that  he  is  devoted  to  their  interests. 
This  solidarity  is  more  than  rigorous,  it  is 
fraternal.  Beneath  hierarchical  inequality 
there  exists  moral  equality.  Consequently, 
the  value  of  the  troops  depends  less  on  the 
presence  and  action  of  the  officer.  If  he  falls, 
his  determination  and  ardour  live  on  and 
continue  to  inspire  his  men. 


AFTER  THE  WAR  145 

All  these  virtues,  physical,  intellectual,  and 
moral,  which  the  war  is  now  developing 
within  us,  are  essentially  human  virtues.  It 
is  our  business  to  keep  them  alive,  and  that  is 
perhaps  the  most  difficult  task  of  all.  Pascal 
said :  "  A  man's  virtue  should  not  be  measured 
by  his  efforts,  but  by  his  ordinary  life."  By 
this  he  meant  that  it  is  easier  for  a  man  to 
make  superhuman  efforts  occasionally  than 
to  continue  on  these  higher  levels  where  these 
efforts  of  his  have  placed  him.  The  law  of 
nature  tends  either  to  maintain  or  to  restore 
one's  mean  or  average  state.  "  To  maintain 
oneself  above  one's  nature,"  concluded  Pascal, 
"  the  intervention  of  grace  is  needed." 

It  should  be  our  concern  to  gain  possession 
of  the  interior  force  necessary  to  oppose  this 
rhythmic  balancing,  which  generally,  in  the 
living  being,  tends  to  bring  about  the  disap- 
pearance of  every  habit  which  deviates  from 
the  average  state. 

We  must  keep  and  cultivate  within  our- 
selves this  moral  energy,  without  which  our 
present  acquisitions  might  W7ell  be  ephemeral 
and  transitory.  Nothing  great  endures  of 
itself.  And  the  preservation  of  power,  faith 
and  love,  which  alone  ensure  the  persistence 
of  the  habits  of  which  we  are  speaking,  implies 
continual  creation  deep  within  our  own  souls. 


146          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 


III. 

Independently  of  the  habits  it  develops 
within  us,  war  supplies  us  with  many  a  lesson 
worth  meditating  upon  and  remembering. 
Let  us  try  to  find  out  what  some  of  these 
lessons  are. 

In  the  first  place,  this  war  admonishes  us 
never  to  lull  ourselves  into  a  sense  of  idle 
security.  Though  our  intentions  might  be 
irreproachable,  though  the  peoples  forced 
themselves  to  set  up  international  justice, 
there  are  States  that  admit  of  no  other  right 
than  the  right  of  the  stronger,  and  that  direct 
the  whole  of  their  activity  towards  the  acquisi- 
tion of  a  force  superior  to  that  of  the  rest  of 
the  world;  to  these  States  a  convention  they 
have  themselves  signed  becomes  null  and  void 
if  they  feel  themselves  strong  enough  to 
violate  it  with  impunity.  There  are  States 
that  regard  peace  as  nothing  but  a  means  of 
organizing  future  war  on  the  very  territory  of 
those  they  intend  to  plunder.  There  are 
nations  which,  in  the  name  of  a  culture  which 
they  declare  to  be  superior  to  that  of  all  other 
nations,  claim  the  right  of  organizing  the  world 
in  accordance  with  their  good  pleasure — i.e.,  of 


AFTER  THE  WAR  147 

exploiting  and  enslaving  it.  Since  it  has  been 
possible  to  profess  and  carry  into  practice  these 
ideas  concurrently  with  the  widest  expansion 
of  science  and  civilization,  it  has  become  im- 
possible, in  international  politics,  to  rely  upon 
one's  own  good  right,  upon  the  rights  of 
peoples,  or  upon  conventions.  The  genius  of 
force  and  domination  is  directed  towards  the 
conversion  of  all  the  elements  of  life  into 
engines  of  war;  and  so  right,  also,  must  be  in 
a  position  to  defend  itself.  And  as  war,  more 
than  ever  nowadays,  demands  mighty  and 
lengthy  preparations,  the  reconciliation  of 
war  with  life — the  characteristic  of  our  present 
condition — will,  to  a  certain  extent,  have  to  be 
continued  when  the  present  war  has  come  to 
an  end.  An  adversary  who  believes  in  nothing 
but  force  will  check  his  ambitious  ideas  only 
when  he  finds  himself  confronted  with  a  force 
which  commands  his  respect  and  awe. 

A  second  lesson  imposed  on  us  by  the  present 
war  is  that  the  defence  of  the  country  can  no 
longer  be  regarded  as  a  special  function  de- 
volving solely  on  special  organs  of  the  nation. 
This  war,  by  reason  of  the  enormous  propor- 
tions it  has  assumed,  calls  for  the  participa- 
tion of  the  entire  nation .  Our  utmost  strength 
will  be  needed  to  resist  an  enemy  who  has 


148          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

done  everything  possible  to  crush  us.  Not 
only  should  every  fit  man  be  enrolled  in  the 
army,  but  the  entire  nation,  more  or  less 
immediately, should  support  military  activities. 
One  of  the  most  remarkable  consequences 
of  this  situation  is  the  obligation  incumbent 
upon  us  to  reconcile,  in  one  common,  har- 
monious action,  the  efforts  of  the  State  with 
those  of  free  societies  or  of  citizens.  In 
France,  we  have  not  yet  altogether  lost  the 
habit  of  regarding  State  and  society  as  rivals, 
whose  sole  concern  is  to  encroach  on  the  do- 
main of  each  other.  Authority  and  freedom 
we  look  upon  as  two  contraries,  of  which  the 
one  cannot  be  increased  without  the  other 
being  diminished .  In  such  a  competition ,  how- 
ever, war  shows  that  there  is  a  fatal  division. 
Forces  annul  one  another,  when  they  should 
be  added  together  and  combined.  The  State 
and  freedom  must  learn  not  only  mutual  sup- 
port— a  paltry  thing,  after  all — but  also  the 
combination  of  their  resources,  powers  and 
efforts,  a  cordial,  intelligent  and  loyal  co- 
operation. What  difficulties  will  be  smoothed 
away  and  noble  feelings  awakened,  what  mis- 
trust will  be  dissipated,  when  both  are 
thoroughly  convinced  that  it  is  not  their  end 
to  be  each  wholly  for  itself  alone,  but  both  to 


AFTER  THE  WAR  149 

devote  themselves  respectively  to  one  trans- 
cendent task:  the  preservation,  honour  and 
grandeur  of  one's  country  ! 

I  should  like  to  mention  a  third  lesson, 
which  contemporary  history  has  taught  us 
with  increasing  distinctness,  but  which  the 
present  war  is  applying  with  special  force. 
It  has  become  impossible  henceforth  for  any 
power,  whether  great  or  small,  to  confine  itself 
to  its  own  inner  life  and  politics  and  relegate  to 
the  background  all  thoughts  of  foreign  politics. 
The  solidarity  of  nations  is  such,  at  the  present 
time,  that  whatever  affects  one  necessarily 
finds  an  echo  in  all  the  rest.  No  longer  are 
there  any  purely  home  politics,  independent 
of  foreign  politics.  If  we  are  determined  to 
continue  our  existence  and  retain  the  possi- 
bility of  living  in  accordance  with  our  own 
distinctive  traditions  and  genius,  we  must 
constantly  keep  our  eyes  fixed  on  the  events 
now  happening  throughout  the  world. 

Dumont-Wilden,  a  Belgian  writer,  recently 
said  that  Alsace-Lorraine  was  the  (<  neuralgic 
spot  "  of  Europe.  To-day,  it  must  be  ack- 
nowledged that  the  question  being  discussed 
between  the  Allies  on  the  one  side  and  the 
Germans  and  Austrians  on  the  other  is  vital 
to  all  nations.  For  we  now  have  to  decide 


ISO         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

whether  the  whole  world  is  to  become  the  prey 
of  that  one  of  them  which,  believing  itself  the 
strongest,  refuses  the  others  all  right  of  exist- 
ence; or  whether  every  nation,  great  or  small, 
which  possesses  an  individuality  of  its  own, 
has  the  right  to  live,  whilst  respecting  the 
freedom  of  the  rest.  In  very  deed,  every 
nation  in  the  world  will  be  affected  by  the 
issue. 

Thus  it  has  become  more  certain  than  ever 
that,  if  we  are  to  keep  our  place  and  maintain 
our  role  in  the  world,  we  cannot  be  content 
with  considering  ourselves  alone  and  looking 
upon  other  peoples  in  the  light  of  our  tradi- 
tional ideas.  We  must  take  up  the  study  of 
foreign  languages  seriously,  and  make  our- 
selves capable  of  penetrating  the  thought  and 
mind  of  others.  There  has  been  talk  of  uni- 
versal languages,  and  such,  it  may  be,  are 
capable  of  proving  useful  in  commercial 
transactions,  but  they  would  be  rather  harm- 
ful than  advantageous  were  they  to  prevent 
us  from  learning  the  national  languages,  which 
alone  can  reveal  the  genius  of  foreign  peoples. 
To  know  and  understand  what  is  taking  place 
every  hour  throughout  the  world,  and  to  con- 
sider all  the  aspects  of  our  national  life  in  their 
relation  to  the  life  of  the  other  nations — this 


AFTER  THE  WAR  151 

task,  which  has  long  been  an  important  one, 
henceforth  seems  to  me  to  be  implied  in  all 
the  rest. 

IV. 

To  sum  up,  war  everywhere  calls  forth  in 
the  nation,  and  will  continue  to  do  so,  a  new 
outburst  of  life.  It  directs  our  activities,  in 
the  main,  along  important  channels,  it  incul- 
cates habits  and  teaches  lessons  which  have 
not  only  a  military,  but  largely  a  human  import. 

Must  this  war,  then,  change  the  whole  course 
of  our  national  life,  or  have  an  effect  in  this 
direction  ?  Such  a  conception  would  be  alike 
pernicious  and  chimerical.  It  seems  impos- 
sible that  war,  however  profound  its  influence, 
should  transform  our  nature,  and  it  would  be 
strange  if  we  were  to  attempt  to  make  it 
produce  such  a  result.  It  is  in  order  to  remain 
French  that  we  are  fighting;  it  is  from  our 
national  soul  that  we  obtain  the  strength 
needed  to  adapt  ourselves  to  present  circum- 
stances .  Therefore  we  shall  continue  to  regard 
our  national  ideal  as  a  supreme  law,  a  suffici- 
ently noble  ideal  to  ensure  our  fidelity  to  it. 

And  now  that  we  can  compare  it,  in  actual 
practice,  with  the  German  ideal,  we  better 
understand  its  meaning  and  value. 


152          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Germany  has  been  a  country  enamoured  of 
poetry  and  music,  of  metaphysics,  of  the  in- 
finite and  the  ideal.  Doubtless  these  tenden- 
cies might  have  been  maintained  amid  the 
material  transformations  which  modern  times 
are  bringing  into  the  world.  Under  the  in- 
fluence, however,  either  of  circumstances,  or 
of  human  beings,  or  of  a  weakening  of  that 
inner  activity,  or  urge,  which  Goethe  regarded 
as  the  essential  of  life,  German  genius  has 
departed  so  far  from  its  ideal  as  to  seem  to 
abjure  it  altogether. 

German  idealism  consisted  in  finding  no  satis- 
faction in  any  of  the  objects  offered  us  by  this 
visible  and  tangible  world.  Goethe,  long  a 
fervent  disciple  of  Greece,  feeling  himself,  in 
his  old  age,  once  more  under  the  influence  of 
this  transcendental  idealism,  writes : 

"  Und  mich  ergreift  ein  langst  entwohntes  Sehnen 
Nach  jenem  stillen,  ernsten  Geisterreich." 

(Now  there  comes  over  me  a  long-forgotten  yearning 
after  yon  calm,  grave  spirit -world.) 

The  mental  state  that  characterizes  this 
idealism  is  communicated  by  a  word  impos- 
sible to  translate — Sehnsucht.  The  Sehnsucht 
of  German  poets  and  philosophers  is  an  ever- 
unassuaged  desire,  the  yearning  after  some- 


AFTER  THE  WAR  153 

thing  infinite,  ineffable,  all-embracing  and 
absolute,  which  no  apprehensible  and  definite 
form  of  existence  will  ever  be  able  to  realize. 

Now,  strange  to  say,  the  German  mind  has 
come  to  persuade  itself  that  it  is  itself  this 
infinite,  absolute  spirit,  become  real  and  visible 
and  with  the  self-appointed  task  of  taking 
possession  of  this  world  of  ours.  "  The  Word 
of  God  became  flesh,  and  dwelt  amongst  us." 
This  was  nothing  but  a  prediction  of  the  role 
which  the  German  people  was  some  day  to 
assume. 

How  did  this  revolution  come  about  ?  It 
would  seem  as  though  the  idea  of  the  Biblical 
Jehovah,  who  manifested  his  protection  by  the 
power  he  conferred  on  his  elect,  played  an 
important  part  therein.  Germany  conquered 
Napoleon,  Austria,  France;  consequently,  the 
old  God  of  the  Hebrews  is  henceforth  at  the 
service  of  the  Germans  who,  in  their  songs, 
call  him  by  the  familiar  name,  der  alte,  der 
deutsche  Gott. 

A  second  sign  of  Germany's  mission  is  her 
scientific  superiority  over  all  other  nations. 
To  those  who  know  Germany  and  have  fre- 
quented her  Universities,  this  superiority  is  so 
evident  that  they  will  never  think  of  demand- 
ing proof,  when  confronted  with  the  assertions 


154         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

of  German  scientists.  They  know  beforehand 
that  proof  exists,  and  is  too  voluminous  and 
learned  to  be  transcribed  in  works  intended 
for  the  public.  But  a  like  privilege  cannot 
be  accorded  to  other  nations,  for  their  science 
is  uncertain  and  their  assertions  are  of  value 
only  in  so  far  as  they  are  based  on  proof 
accepted  by  German  science. 

Alike  by  her  science  and  her  power,  Ger- 
many claims  to  have  been  called  upon  to 
realize  the  kingdom  of  God  upon  earth. 
Hence  she  does  not  belong  to  herself,  but,  as 
representing  God,  she  must  do  his  will.  And, 
according  to  Germany,  this  will  consists  first 
in  subjugating  the  world,  and  afterwards 
organizing  it  according  to  German  principles. 
At  the  present  time,  Germany  is  carrying 
through  the  first  of  these  tasks;  in  the  near 
future  she  is  to  undertake  the  second.  And, 
as  the  divine  essence  of  Germany  consists  of 
her  absolute  power  and  science,  it  is  solely 
from  German  power  and  science  that  she 
will  obtain  the  principles  which  control  her 
mode  of  carrying  on  war  as  well  as  of  organizing 
the  world. 

Over  against  this  apotheosis  of  Germanism, 
which  France  has  been  amazed  to  find  succeed- 
ing the  all-enfolding  thought  of  a  Leibnitz  or 


AFTER  THE  WAR  155 

a  Goethe,  our  country  has  jealously  maintained 
the  classic  ideal  to  which  she  has  long  been 
attached,  and  of  which  she  has  become  ever 
more  distinctly  aware. 

France  does  not  start  with  the  idea  of  the 
infinite  or  the  absolute  as  the  norm  of  thought 
and  the  principle  of  the  organization  of  the 
world.  She  has  simply  before  her  eyes  the 
idea  of  humanity,  and  her  first  task  is  to  con- 
ceive, as  judiciously  and  nobly  as  possible, 
this  idea  which  is  familiar  to  all  men,  and 
afterwards  to  realize  it  ever  more  deeply  in 
the  various  departments  of  human  life. 

Not  that  French  thought  is  ignorant  of  the 
divine  infinite  or  even  of  the  infinite  of  nature : 
Pascal  has  extolled  both  in  terms  that  can 
never  be  forgotten.  Minds  fed  on  classic 
tradition,  however,  rise  from  man  to  that 
which  transcends  man;  they  do  not  speak  of 
the  unknown  or  the  unknowable  in  order  to 
define  and  organize  the  known. 

In  such  an  idea  of  humanity,  classic  thought 
assigns  an  essential  role  to  an  element  which 
German  thought — mainly  preoccupied  with 
power  and  science — has  almost  always  regarded 
as  secondary,  and  that  is  sentiment  or  feeling. 
Classic  thought  does  not  place  sentiment  on  a 
pedestal,  as  Rousseau  did.  All  the  same,  it 


156          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

does  not  content  itself  with  a  purely  geo- 
metrical or  metaphysical  reason,  as  do  the 
German  philosophers.  Aristotelian  reason  is 
the  faculty  of  judging  not  only  about  the  pos- 
sible, but  about  the  suitable.  It  endows  with 
order  and  beauty,  with  all  that  is  desirable, 
good  and  honourable,  a  sentiment  that  cannot 
be  reduced  to  strictly  logical  thought.  Carte- 
sian reason  is  a  living  faculty  of  everywhere 
discriminating  the  false  from  the  true,  a 
faculty  nourished  by  practical  life  quite  as 
much  as  by  the  study  of  the  sciences.  It  is 
well  known  with  what  nicety  Pascal  distin- 
guishes between  the  geometrical  mind  and  the 
intuitive  mind .  We  may  say  that,  according  to 
classic  thought,  the  geometrical  mind  is  never 
adequate,  not  even  in  geometry,  but  that  the 
union  of  the  geometrical  mind  with  the  intui- 
tive is  requisite  in  all  investigations  that  tend 
to  transcend  the  sphere  of  abstractions  and 
retain  a  firm  hold  on  reality. 

Hence  we  have  in  present-day  society  the 
cult,  not  only  of  science,  but  also  of  intelli- 
gence, strictly  so  called,  of  judgment  and 
good  sense,  of  tact,  and  the  sense  of  gradation 
and  measure.  Hence  also  the  maintenance, 
throughout  the  entire  range  of  knowledge,  of 
that  relationship  and  kinship  between  science 


AFTER  THE  WAR  157 

and  art,  theory  and  practice,  which  the 
ancients  affirmed  in  their  definition  of  wisdom. 

Nor  should  force,  any  more  than  science, 
in  accordance  with  the  classic  conception  of 
the  human  ideal,  be  isolated  from  feeling. 
Force  must  become  ever  more  human  and 
mild,  more  imbued  with  the  moral  elements 
of  equity,  generosity  and  kindness.  Greek 
civilization  is  but  a  constant  effort  to  subject 
force  to  grace,  to  replace  compulsion  by  per- 
suasion. Bismarck  said  that  feeling  is  to  cal- 
culation and  force  what  weeds  are  to  corn; 
and  that,  like  weeds,  it  ought  to  be  rooted  up. 
We  think,  on  the  contrary,  that  feeling,  when 
judiciously  cultivated,  forms  an  integral  part 
of  an  intelligence  that  is  refined  and  a  force 
that  is  beneficent. 

Aiming  after  such  an  ideal  as  this,  we  in- 
terpret the  march  of  civilization  in  the  world 
quite  differently  from  the  Germans.  We 
reject  an  extreme  individualism  which  tends 
to  regard  every  bond  between  human  beings 
as  compulsion  and  all  organization  as  tyranny. 
The  very  thing  for  which  we  reproach  Rousseau 
is  that,  according  to  him,  every  human  in- 
dividual possesses  an  absolute  and  naturally 
independent  existence.  Individuals,  both  in 
reality  and  in  theory,  are  mutually  intercon- 


158         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

nected.  This  interconnection,  too,  goes  on 
increasing  daily  as  human  communications 
become  facilitated.  Still,  we  consider  that  the 
difference  in  nature  between  a  person  and  a 
thing  continues  to  exist  just  the  same.  A 
person  merits  respect,  and,  in  this  world  of 
ours,  there  are  collective  as  well  as  individual 
persons.  A  nation,  too,  is  a  person,  and  has 
the  right  to  live  in  accordance  with  its  own 
distinctive  genius,  provided  it  does  not  jeop- 
ardize the  life  of  other  nations.  The  idea  of 
right,  based  on  that  of  dignity  and  moral 
worth,  must  consequently,  in  our  eyes,  be 
reconciled  with  that  of  organization,  if  we 
intend  this  latter  to  be  not  only  scienti- 
fic but  also  human.  The  whole  alone  has  no 
value,  if  we  are  dealing  with  a  whole  consist- 
ing of  persons.  In  this  case,  the  part  itself 
must  be  regarded  as  an  end.  The  organiza- 
tion we  want  not  only  respects  the  freedom 
of  its  members  but  also  co-ordinates  their 
faculties  with  a  view  to  common  action.  The 
whole  that  we  conceive  is  a  living  harmony, 
not  a  dull  unity. 

This  is  the  reason  why  our  country  is  called, 
and  will  continue  to  be  called,  la  douce  France. 
Here,  assuredly,  patriotism  is  manifest,  and 
we  become  at  once  united  when  the  honour 


AFTER  THE  WAR  159 

and  life  of  the  country  have  to  be  defended. 
Union,  however,  is  not  imposed  from  without 
on  wholly  heterogeneous  organs  which  are 
simply  complementary  to  one  another.  The 
principle  of  action  lies  in  the  soul  of  the  people, 
in  one  common  nature,  one  common  sense  of 
fidelity  and  love  to  that  ideal,  and  to  an 
eternal  France  which  history  depicts  for  us  so 
beautifully.  And  this  feeling  implies  the  love 
of  those  various  traditions  and  tendencies 
whose  harmonious  whole  constitutes  the 
French  spirit.  The  result  is  that  unity  does 
not  exclude  variety,  and  that  France  remains 
a  land  in  which,  whatever  one's  beliefs  and 
opinions,  it  is  good  to  live. 

The  French  nature,  too,  is  similarly  disposed 
towards  foreign  peoples.  No  Frenchmen,  en- 
amoured of  good  sense,  of  moderation  and 
right  judgment,  would  think  of  claiming  that 
they  have  nothing  to  learn  from  others.  On 
the  contrary,  they  are  inquisitive  regarding 
what  takes  place  in  other  lands;  they  under- 
stand and  appreciate  this  better  than  is  gener- 
ally thought  to  be  the  case.  Latterly  they 
have  written  about  Germany  works  of  rare 
insight  and  impartiality.  Not  only  do  they 
value  the  original  productions  of  other  coun- 
tries: they  allow  these  productions  to  inspire 


1 60          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

them  in  their  own  creations.  Corneille 
borrows  from  Spain,  our  eighteenth  century 
from  England,  our  romanticism  from  Germany. 
When  borrowing,  however,  the  Frenchman 
practises  the  classic  method  of  imitation.  He 
sets  his  stamp  on  what  he  borrows  and  makes 
it  his  own.  "  Not  in  Montaigne,  but  in 
myself,"  said  Pascal,  "  do  I  see  that  which  I 
see." 

The  reconciliation  of  freedom  and  solidarity, 
of  organization  and  initiative,  of  feeling  and 
intelligence,  of  art  and  science,  and  thereby 
the  loftiest  and  widest  possible  realization  of 
the  idea  of  humanity :  such  is  the  object  which 
France  has  set  before  herself  in  the  past.  She 
has  no  need  to  seek  another.  To  the  expe- 
rience afforded  by  the  present  war  she  will  be 
indebted  for  many  a  new  method  of  reach- 
ing forward  to  her  ideal,  but  at  the  same  time 
will  remain  faithful  to  this  ideal,  for  her  own 
honour  and  advantage,  as  well  as  in  the  in- 
terests of  humanity  as  a  whole. 


THE    FRENCH   CONCEPTION    OF 
NATIONALITY 

I. 

IN  the  examination  I  purpose  to  make  of  the 
French  conception  of  nationality,  it  would  be 
quite  wrong  to  imagine  that  our  countrymen, 
in  this  war,  are  eager  to  obtain  power  or  in- 
fluence. Rather  are  they  struggling  for  the 
dignity  and  liberty  of  the  nations,  as  well  as 
for  their  own  independence.  And  it  is  the 
principle  which  underlies  nationality  that 
excites  their  invincible  courage  and  tenacity. 
It  is  quite  in  conformity  with  our  present 
mental  state  to  inquire  of  what  exactly  this 
principle  consists,  and  to  ask  ourselves  if  it  will 
effectually  withstand  the  criticism  of  an  im- 
partial and  strictly  philosophical  reason. 

The  general  idea  of  the  French  doctrine  is 
as  follows : 

Basing  its  deductions  on  the  Hellenic  and 
Christian  conception  of  human  nature,  the 
Declaration  of  1789  had  proclaimed,  as  also 
had  America,  that  men  are  born  free,  and 

161  ii 


1 62          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

equal  in  their  rights,  and  that  they  continue 
so.  The  French  theory  of  nationality  con- 
sists in  extending  to  nations  that  which,  in 
this  maxim,  is  affirmed  of  individuals. 

According  to  the  doctrine  which  inspired 
the  Declaration  of  1789,  the  basis  of  right 
is  nothing  else  than  personality.  Now,  the 
French  doctrine  consists  in  recognizing  that 
personality  may  be  found  in  nations  as  well  as 
in  individuals,  and  that,  wherever  it  exists,  it 
carries  with  it  the  same  dignity  and  brings  to 
pass  the  same  consequences.  Any  nation 
in  which  the  conditions  of  personality  are 
realized  must  for  that  very  reason  claim  its 
liberty  by  the  same  right  as  other  nations 
which  possess  the  same  character. 

Now,  what  is  the  expression  and  sign  of 
personality  in  a  nation  ?  According  to  the 
French  way  of  thinking,  it  is  the  consent  of 
the  inhabitants,  their  conscious  will  to  live 
together  and  form  a  political  community. 
In  this  philosophy,  a  national  consciousness 
is  a  true  self-possessing  being,  a  self-willing 
unity.  A  national  consciousness  is  a  reality 
by  the  same  claim  as  an  individual  conscious- 
ness, for  it  is  nothing  more  than  a  conscious 
and  deliberate  agreement  or  harmony  of  in- 
dividual consciousnesses. 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  163 

To  the  political  communities  thus  char- 
acterized applies  the  French  motto,  "  Liberty, 
Equality,  Fraternity." 

Nations  endowed  with  personality  have  a 
right  to  liberty — i.e.,  they  have  the  right  to 
live  in  accordance  with  their  own  genius, 
their  laws,  customs,  and  aspirations,  in  so  far 
as  they  do  not  hinder  a  similar  or  analogous 
development  in  other  nations. 

All  nations  truly  worthy  of  the  name  are 
equal  in  this  respect.  Neither  territorial 
possessions  nor  military  power,  wealth  nor 
scientific  culture,  can  destroy  this  funda- 
mental equality.  Assuredly,  there  may  exist 
many  and  great  inequalities  of  condition 
between  two  persons,  but  their  quality  as 
persons  is  not  affected,  and  they  retain  the 
rights  inherent  in  this  quality.  It  is  the  same 
with  nations;  their  moral  equality  continues 
throughout  every  possible  material  and  in- 
tellectual difference. 

Again,  fraternity,  which  along  with  liberty 
and  equality  should  govern  personal  relations, 
according  to  French  ideas,  is  equally  in  its 
place  in  international  relations.  Two  persons 
are  not  two  material  atoms,  foreign  to  or 
impenetrable  by  each  other.  Persons  need 
one  another;  they  develop  and  grow  by  main- 


1 64          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

taining  relations  of  mutual  sympathy  and 
help.  In  the  relations  which  Nature  herself 
has  set  up  between  the  members  of  a  family, 
they  find  a  pattern  of  the  relations  they  should 
tend  to  establish  with  one  another.  It  is  the 
same  with  nations.  The  liberty  and  equality 
suitable  to  them  find  their  culmination  in 
fraternity. 

II. 

Such,  in  its  simplicity  and  precision,  is  the 
French  conception  of  nationality. 

No  sooner  had  these  ideas  been  announced, 
than  they  everywhere  met  with  enthusiastic 
assent  and  adhesion.  We  know  how  Goethe, 
in  Hermann  and  Dorothea,  describes  the 
feelings  which  filled  all  hearts  when  the  good 
news  spread  from  Paris  throughout  the  nations : 
1 '  Paris ,  so  long  the  capital  of  the  world ,  and  now 
more  than  ever  worthy  of  this  glorious  title  " : 

"...  der  Hauptstadt  der  Welt,  die  es  so  lange  gewesen, 
Und  jetzt  mehr  als  jeden  herrlichen  Namen  verdiente." 

"  Then  at  last,"  said  the  poet,  "  each  man 
hoped  to  live  his  own  life.  It  seems  as  though 
the  chains  which  held  so  many  nations  in 
bondage  were  seen  to  fall  away.": 

"  Damals  hoffte  jeder  sich  selbst  zu  leben:  es  schien  sich 
Aufzulosen  das  Band,  das  viele  Lander  umstrickte.  ..." 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  16' 

And  Goethe  adds  that  this  thought  was 
"  the  loftiest  that  man  could  conceive  ": 

"...  das  hochste 
Was  der  Mensch  sich  denkt." 

The  conception  of  nations  as  persons,  or  as 
the  principle  of  nationality,  dominates  the 
entire  history  of  the  nineteenth  century,  as 
we  see  from  what  took  place  in  Germany, 
Spain,  Greece,  Belgium,  Hungary,  Italy, 
Roumania,  Poland,  Bulgaria,  etc. 

Even  to-day  the  principle  of  nationality 
is  boldly  affirmed,  though  it  must  be  noted 
that,  in  certain  spheres,  it  is  conceived  of  in 
a  very  different  sense  from  that  it  received  in 
1789.  We  hear  it  said,  for  instance,  that  the 
consent  of  a  country's  citizens,  the  criterion 
of  nationality  according  to  the  French  teach- 
ing, is  really  but  a  subjective  and  superficial 
idea,  devoid  of  true  worth;  and  it  is  declared 
that  the  genuine  touchstone  of  nationality  can 
only  be  found  in  strictly  objective,  uncon- 
scious and  impermanent  data,  such  as  im- 
personal science  alone — and  not  the  conscious 
feelings  of  individuals — can  give.  For  in- 
stance, consider  the  inhabitants  of  Alsace- 
Lorraine:  they  look  upon  themselves  as  of 
French  nationality.  In  accordance  with  this 


166         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

sentiment,  numbers  of  them  in  1871  found  a 
refuge  in  France  for  as  long  as  the  German 
occupation  should  last.  And  those  who  stayed 
behind  in  their  native  land  refused  to  allow 
themselves  to  assimilate  with  the  conquering 
nation.  According  to  German  theorists,  how- 
ever, these  facts  express  nothing  more  than 
the  feelings  of  the  inhabitants  of  Alsace  and 
Lorraine  :  consequently  they  are  negligible. 
German  science  affirms  that  these  populations 
are  objectively  German,  and  therefore,  in 
accordance  with  the  principle  of  nationality, 
they  ought  to  be  annexed  to  Germany. 

The  so-called  objective  principles  which  are 
brought  against  that  of  the  consent  of  the 
populations  are  many  and  various.  We  will 
consider  the  main  ones. 

First  we  have  the  question  of  race.  In  race, 
it  is  thought,  is  found  the  origin  of  the  physical 
and  moral  constitution  of  men.  Those  who, 
grouped  geographically,  belong  to  one  and  the 
same  race,  really  form  one  nation.  Racial 
purity  is  the  true  sign  of  a  natural  nationality. 
Again,  the  worth  of  the  various  races  is  propor- 
tionate to  their  degree  of  purity ;  and  if  there 
is  any  one  race  that  is  particularly  pure  and 
primitive,  that  race  is  superior  to  all  the  rest. 

As  we  see,  this  theory  expressly  contradicts 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  167 

the  French  doctrine  of  the  natural  equality 
of  nationalities.  It  is  not  easy,  however,  to 
regard  the  deductions  of  which  it  consists  as 
truly  scientific. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  not  at  all  certain  that 
the  purity  of  a  race  insures  its  superiority. 
Races  become  exhausted  unless  they  are  re- 
vivified by  blending  with  different  races. 
And  if  a  race  is  of  inferior  quality,  the  per- 
sistence of  its  purity  is  the  very  thing  that  will 
maintain  it  in  a  state  of  inferiority. 

Besides,  where  nowadays  are  to  be  found 
those  absolutely  pure  and  primitive  nations 
whose  existence  is  recognized  by  this  theory  ? 
To  what  inaccessible  past  should  we  not  have 
to  go  back  before  we  find  such  races,  if  any 
of  them  actually  exist  ? 

At  all  events,  it  is  not  with  races  of  this  kind 
that  we  have  to  deal  in  practical  life.  Several 
of  the  leading  nations,  such  as  Germany, 
England,  France,  are  made  up  of  blends  of 
extremely  complex  races.  The  United  States, 
as  the  name  implies,  is  a  collection  of  peoples 
of  every  race  and  origin.  And  the  United 
States  claims  that  it  possesses,  in  the  highest 
degree,  a  common  national  consciousness.  If 
racial  purity  were  to  be  the  standard  of  a 
nation's  worth,  where  should  we  have  to 


i68          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

place  Germany,  consisting  as  she  does  of 
Germans  of  the  most  varied  stocks,  of  Slavs, 
Frisians,  Lithuanians,  Walloons,  Latins,  etc.? 
Numbers  of  savage  tribes  are  far  more  homo- 
geneous. 

Does  this  mean  that  there  is  no  connection 
between  race  and  nationality  ?  Such  an  asser- 
tion could  not  be  maintained.  We  must  dis- 
tinguish, however,  between  the  nations  that 
have  remained  in  an  unconscious  state  and 
those  that  are  conscious  of  their  own  nature. 
The  former,  indeed,  are  frequently  nothing 
but  groupings  founded  on  natural  relation- 
ship; the  latter  are  more  independent  of  the 
races  of  which  they  consist.  Or,  rather,  we 
must  recognize  two  acceptations  of  the  word 
race:  There  is  the  natural,  physiological, 
primitive  race,  and  it  is  this,  strictly  speaking, 
that  is  called  race ;  and  there  is  a  sort  of  race 
derived  from  the  blending  of  natural  races 
that  are  often  very  diverse,  a  secondary  crea- 
tion, which  may  be  called  the  psychological 
race.  The  remark  is  often  made  that,  in  a 
family,  not  only  do  the  children  resemble  one 
another,  but  the  parents  also,  after  a  time, 
resemble  one  another.  They  acquire  a  family 
air  of  relationship,  so  to  speak.  This  evolu- 
tion, both  moral  and  physical,  results  from  a 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  169 

life  spent  in  common,  from  the  habit  of  blend- 
ing together  one's  thoughts,  feelings,  and 
occupations.  No  doubt  it  is  in  this  sense  that 
the  Germans,  for  instance,  speak  of  a  German 
race.  Whatever  be  their  origin,  the  colour  of 
the  hair,  or  the  shape  of  the  skull,  the  Germans 
resemble  one  another.  They  have  ways  of 
thinking  and  feeling,  judging  and  speaking, 
walking  and  behaving,  and  dealing  with  other 
men,  which  straightway  set  up  a  demarcation 
between  them  and  other  peoples.  They  do 
not  constitute  a  physiological  race,  but,  with- 
out being  arbitrary,  one  may  say  that  they 
form  a  psychological  race,  definitely  char- 
acterized and  perceptibly  homogeneous.  An 
inhabitant  of  Munich  may  soon  come  to  re- 
semble one  of  Berlin. 

Interpreted  in  this  sense,  race  certainly  has 
a  great  deal  to  do  with  nationality.  People 
are  inclined  to  feel  at  one  with  those  amongst 
whom  they  find  themselves.  Probably,  in 
the  language  of  the  Germans  themselves,  the 
words  "  unity  and  purity  of  the  German 
race  "  refer  principally  to  the  reality  of 
Deutschheit,  or  the  German  character,  in  so 
far  as  it  is  distinct  from  the  Latin  character 
and  common  to  most  men  who  go  by  the  name 
of  Germans. 


1 70          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

But  thus  interpreted  mainly  in  a  psycho- 
logical sense,  the  race  cannot  be  taken  for  a 
genuine  principle.  It  is  not  something  natur- 
ally given:  it  is  a  progression,  a  result  of  human 
activity.  If  we  would  inquire  into  the  forma- 
tion of  this  race  we  call  psychological,  we 
should  have  to  go  back  to  the  causes  and 
reasons  which  determine  men  to  agree  to  dwell 
together  and  constitute  a  nation.  We  should 
have  to  insert  man  between  the  primitive 
races  and  the  present  race — in  other  terms 
appeal  to  the  French  doctrine  and  set  it  in  the 
foreground . 

A  second  principle  invoked  against  French 
principles  is  language.  We  are  told  that  in 
language  is  found  not  only  a  sign,  but  a  cause, 
of  the  profound  and  general  similarity  amongst 
men.  Not  only  do  men  who  speak  the  same 
language  naturally  seek  one  another,  whilst 
those  who  speak  different  languages  remain 
apart;  but  it  is  clear  that,  along  with  the  lan- 
guage, men  have  in  common  innumerable  ideas, 
modes  of  thought  and  habits  of  mind;  con- 
sequently, that  the  divergencies  capable  of 
taking  place  between  men  who  speak  the  same 
language  are  insignificant  as  compared  with 
the  instinct  which  unites  them,  and  makes  of 
them,  in  a  way,  throughout  the  multiplicity 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  171 

of  individuals,  a  single  and  identical  con- 
sciousness. 

From  these  general  considerations,  Fichte 
propounded  a  remarkable  theory  which  gave 
a  deeper  significance  and  importance  to 
language  in  the  destiny  of  nations. 

He  regarded  the  difference  between  primi- 
tive and  derivative  languages  as  most  im- 
portant, claiming  that  a  nation  which  speaks 
a  primitive  language  is  thereby  radically 
superior  to  those  nations  whose  language  is 
derivative.  The  conclusion  he  reached  was 
that  the  former  was  destined  to  exercise  a 
moral  domination  over  the  latter — to  be  their 
schoolmaster,  in  fact. 

The  Germans,  for  instance,  whose  language 
is  primitive,  are  of  necessity  superior  to  the 
Latin  nations,  whose  languages  are  derivative. 
Not  only  can  the  German  have — or  actually 
has — full  knowledge  of  his  own  language,  but 
he  is  capable  of  understanding  any  Latin 
language — French,  for  instance — better  than 
the  people  who  speak  that  language  will  ever 
understand  it.  The  French  neither  under- 
stand nor  are  capable  of  understanding  French. 
Indeed,  this  language  consists  of  Latin  ele- 
ments, the  origin  and  inner  meaning  of  which 
were  not  grasped  by  the  ancestors  of  present- 


172          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

day  Frenchmen  at  the  time  they  adopted 
them.  The  French  cannot  even  master  Latin, 
a  knowledge  of  which  might  help  them  in 
understanding  their  own  tongue.  In  fact, 
they  do  not  know  what  a  primitive  language 
is,  and  the  French  words  from  which  they 
start  when  studying  Latin  words,  being  them- 
selves but  distorted  residua,  do  not  permit 
them  to  assimilate  the  creative  principle  of 
the  Latin  tongue.  Nothing  but  contact  with 
life  can  awaken  life. 

The  Germans,  on  the  other  hand,  knowing 
by  experience  what  it  is  that  constitutes  a 
primitive,  living  language,  are  able  to  assimi- 
late the  inner  principle  of  the  Latin  tongue, 
and  consequently  to  understand,  in  so  far  as 
they  are  comprehensible,  the  dead  languages 
derived  from  it. 

These  prerogatives  confer  on  the  German 
nation  not  only  an  indisputable  nationality 
but  the  one  nationality  that  is  above  all 
others. 

Evidently,  it  would  be  advisable  to  dispute 
this  conclusion,  to  examine  closely  the 
Fichtean  theory  of  languages  which  has 
played  so  large  a  part  in  the  history  of  German 
thought.  In  default  of  systematic  investiga- 
tion into  the  question,  on  which  I  cannot  now 
enter,  I  will  make  a  few  observations. 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  173 

It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  Germans  are 
most  anxious  to  maintain,  or  rather  to  restore, 
the  purity  of  their  language.  They  perceive 
that  numerous  foreign  words  are  continually 
stealing  in,  and  they  do  all  they  can  to  drive 
out  the  intruders.  It  would  be  an  insult  to 
the  German  language,  they  imagine,  to  suppose 
that  it  should  ever  need  to  have  recourse  to  a 
foreign  tongue  for  the  designation  of  any 
object  whatsoever.  Their  task,  however,  is  not 
so  easy  as  at  first  it  seems.  Numerous  ex- 
amples prove  this.  In  certain  German  hotels 
and  restaurants  may  be  found  a  box  intended 
to  receive  the  fines  inflicted  as  a  punishment 
for  using  foreign  words.  Above  this  box 
stands  the  word  "  Fremdenworterstrafkasse." 
Now,  in  this  expression,  the  word  kasse,  in 
spite  of  the  k  which  disguises  it,  is  simply  the 
old  French  word  casse,  still  used  by  printers, 
and  represented  in  the  ordinary  language  of 
the  day  by  the  words  caisse,  cassette.  I 
remember  once  reading  an  order  of  the  Kaiser 
himself,  forbidding  the  use  of  French  words  in 
the  army.  The  very  order  contained  a  number 
of  French  words. 

Is  this  anything  more  than  a  practical,  a 
temporary  difficulty  ?  May  it  not  rather  be 
that  the  difficulty  results  from  some  radical 
defect  in  the  theory  ? 


174          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Fichte  was  not  content  with  distinguishing 
between  primitive  and  derivative  languages, 
manifestly  a  real  distinction  if  we  thereby 
mean  no  more  than  languages  relatively  primi- 
tive and  languages  relatively  derivative.  He 
added  that  the  former,  qua  primitive,  are  living 
languages,  the  only  living  languages,  whereas 
derivative  languages  are  necessarily  dead 
languages.  This  particularly  is  his  opinion 
with  reference  to  the  German  and  the  French 
languages. 

Are  we  to  admit  the  equivalence  affirmed  by 
this  philosopher  between  primitive  and  living, 
derivative  and  dead  ? 

If  the  German  language  claims,  as  Fichte 
would  have  it,  to  be  self-sufficient  and  to 
develop  solely  in  accordance  with  its  own 
primordial  laws,  it  condemns  itself  to  the 
necessity  of  rendering,  by  means  of  its  own 
distinctive  roots,  all  the  new  ideas  which 
time  may  bring  forth.  By  combining  these 
elements  in  such  or  such  a  fashion,  the  problem 
is  to  form  syntheses  which  necessarily  evoke 
in  the  mind  the  new  ideas  we  purpose  to 
express.  To  the  man,  however,  who  regards 
as  sacrosanct  the  purity  of  the  language,  the 
roots  of  words,  and  the  modes  in  which  they 
may  be  combined,  are  immutable  and  finite 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  175 

in  number.  The  problem  we  set  ourselves, 
then,  consists  in  satisfying,  with  nothing  but 
the  resources  contained  in  the  legacy  of  the 
most  distant  past,  the  unknown  requirements 
of  the  future,  in  filling  up  the  infinite  with  a 
determined  amount  of  finite  materials.  It  is 
something  like  a  wager  made  by  a  chemist,  that 
from  purely  inorganic  elements  and  by  apply- 
ing strictly  mechanical  laws  he  would  attain 
all  the  forms  and  functions,  adaptations  and 
creations  of  life.  And  it  may  be  that  thought 
is  even  more  fruitful  than  life  ! 

That  the  task  is  paradoxical  is  frequently 
shown  when  it  is  our  object  to  name  some- 
thing new. 

When  aeroplanes  first  appeared,  the  word 
Flugmaschinen  was  applied  to  them.  This 
expression,  however,  "  flying-machine,"  rather 
suggests  the  apparatus  of  which  Icarus 
dreamed.  Nowadays  the  words  Taube,  Avia- 
tik,  Albatros,  are  used,  the  method  of  composi- 
tion peculiar  to  the  German  tongue  being 
abandoned  in  favour  of  the  comparative 
method,  that  of  the  Latin  tongues. 

The  apparatus  we  call  ascenseur  was  first 
called  lift.  The  day  came,  however,  when 
they  were  horrified  to  find  that  they  were 
using  an  English  word,  and  so  it  was  replaced 


1 76          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

by  the  compound  word  Aufzug.  But  Aufzug 
simply  means  the  action  of  drawing  upwards, 
or  else  a  machine  for  lifting  loads  or  parcels. 
Aufzug,  then,  was  replaced  by  Fahrstuhl.  But 
even  this  word  is  anything  but  satisfactory. 
It  means  a  rolling  chair  as  well  as  one  carried 
upwards.  Besides,  the  chair  or  seat  is  not  an 
essential  part  of  a  lift.  For  a  satisfactory 
designation  of  even  so  simple  an  object,  diffi- 
culties are  encountered  which  are  evidently 
insuperable. 

In  the  moral  order  of  things,  also,  whether 
owing  to  the  genius  of  the  language  or  for 
other  reasons,  many  ideas  familiar  to  us  can 
be  expressed  but  imperfectly  in  German.  An 
Alsatian  assured  me  that  the  German  language, 
whatever  the  dictionary  may  say  on  the 
matter,  possesses  no  equivalent  for  generosite. 
"  I  must,  however,  add,"  he  said,  "  that  the 
French  language  has  no  word  which  translates 
Schadenfreude . ' ' 

It  is  anything  but  certain,  a  priori,  that  the 
roots  and  synthetic  methods  at  the  disposal 
of  the  German  tongue  will  at  all  times  suffice 
to  render  every  idea  capable  of  being  conceived 
by  the  human  mind.  Besides,  there  is  another 
inconvenience,  no  less  essential,  the  danger  of 
obscurity. 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  177 

It  is  by  the  aid  of  compound  words  that  the 
German  language  must  respond  to  the  new 
appeals  made  upon  it.  By  the  elements  of 
which  it  is  made  up  and  the  order  in  which 
these  elements  are  arranged,  the  compound 
word  must  itself  adequately  explain  the  mean- 
ing it  bears.  It  cannot,  however,  be  at  all 
sure  of  performing  this  task.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  between  the  different  elements  of  the 
compound  word  there  necessarily  exist  certain 
relations,  and  it  is  these  very  relations  that 
determine  the  sense  of  the  word  as  a  whole. 
But  the  qualitative  syntheses  which  most 
compound  words  represent  are  not  like  the 
quantitative  syntheses  of  the  mathematician. 
The  latter  appeal  to  a  single  relation,  that  of 
addition,  the  simplest  and  clearest  of  all.  In 
the  order  of  qualitative  realities,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  relations  are  very  diverse,  as  we  see 
from  the  multiplicity  of  our  French  preposi- 
tions, the  precise  object  of  which  is  to  note 
the  most  important  of  these  relations.  Now, 
the  German  language,  in  its  manner  of  building 
up  compound  words,  does  not  indicate  rela- 
tions. It  leaves  the  reader  or  the  listener  to 
guess  whether  we  are  dealing  with  a  relation 
of  possession,  of  causality,  of  destination,  of 
place  or  of  time,  etc.  In  many  cases  it  follows 


1 78          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

either  that  the  reader  does  not  reflect  suffi- 
ciently on  the  relation  which  it  is  advisable  to 
supply,  and  then  his  idea  of  it  is  but  vague ; 
or  else  he  imagines  a  relation  other  than  that 
understood  by  the  author,  in  which  case  he 
gives  a  wrong  interpretation  to  the  compound 
word. 

Here  is  an  instance  of  the  diversity  of  the 
relations  which  may  be  implied  between  the 
determinant  and  the  determined:  Lichtkur 
means  treatment  or  cure  by  means  of  light; 
Lichtschirm,  a  protection  against  light,  a  lamp- 
screen  ;  Lichtmaterie ,  matter  possessed  of  lumin- 
ous radiation;  Lichtmesser,  an  instrument  for 
measuring  light ;  Lichtloch,  a  hole  that  lets  the 
light  through. 

Certain  problems  of  exegesis  arise  from  our 
uncertainty  as  regards  the  relation  we  must 
supply  between  the  various  elements  of  the 
compound  word.  Does  Kant's  well-known 
formula  Vernunftglaube  mean  belief  of  reason, 
or  belief  in  conformity  with  reason,  or  belief 
imposed  by  reason,  or  belief  created  by 
reason  ?  These  divers  interpretations  have 
been  given,  and  they  present  the  Kantian 
doctrine  under  perceptibly  different  aspects. 

Thus  it  is  anything  but  evident  that  the 
German  language  is  essentially  living  solely 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  179 

because  it  is  primitive.  The  life  within  it 
seems  rather  to  resemble  the  property  of 
combining  chemical  elements  than  the  power 
of  adapting  and  creating  really  living  organ- 
isms. This  language  tortures  itself  in  trying, 
with  rough  unyielding  materials,  to  obtain  the 
delicate  shades  and  infinite  movement  of  life ; 
its  success  is  but  partial. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  at  all  evident 
that  such  a  language  as  French,  simply  because 
it  is  derivative  and  made  up  of  elements  taken 
from  without,  is  therefore  a  dead  language. 

The  meaning  of  French  words  has  only  a 
more  or  less  distant  connection  with  the  mean- 
ing of  the  roots  from  which  they  are  derived. 
This,  assuredly,  is  a  feature  of  the  French 
language,  although  in  this  connection  it  is 
advisable  to  avoid  exaggeration,  and  to  recog- 
nize that  a  certain  relation  is  generally  main- 
tained between  the  present  meaning  of  the 
word  and  the  meaning  of  the  Latin  roots. 
Instead,  however,  of  this  characteristic  being, 
as  alleged,  a  sign  of  death,  it  is  rather  an  indi- 
cation or  mark  of  life. 

The  German  language,  which  proceeds  from 
the  word  to  the  idea,  keeps  close  to  the  etymo- 
logical meaning  of  the  roots,  and  frequently 
fails  in  its  effort  to  grasp  the  idea.  The  French 


180          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

language  starts  with  the  idea,  and  with  the 
elements  at  its  disposal,  or  even  with  the 
elements  it  borrows  from  other  languages;  it 
endeavours  to  find  an  elegant  and  practical 
sign  for  this  idea.  The  link  that  unites  the 
idea  to  its  expression  will  partly  be  etymology, 
though  mainly  and  essentially  it  will  be  con- 
vention, taste,  custom: 

" usus, 

Quern  penes  arbitrium  est  et  jus  et  norma  loquendi." 

The  French  language  seeks  the  golden  mean 
between  the  algebraical  language,  in  which 
the  sign,  a  purely  arbitrary  one,  receives  the 
whole  of  its  meaning  from  the  thing  signified, 
and  the  etymological  language,  in  which  the 
meaning  of  the  word  should  be  adequately 
determined  by  its  elements.  Now,  it  is  clear 
that,  whereas  the  etymological  language,  pro- 
ceeding from  the  word  to  the  idea,  is  indis- 
solubly  connected  with  a  past  which  could  not 
foresee  the  whole  of  the  future,  the  language 
founded  on  custom  or  usage — i.e.,  proceeding 
from  the  idea  to  the  word — is  readily  adapted 
to  new  ideas,  however  different  they  may  be 
from  the  former  ones.  Is  not  this  limitless 
power  of  adaptation  and  invention,  this  ad- 
herence of  the  word  to  the  idea,  this  identity 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  181 

of  aspect,  maintained  throughout  all  changes, 
not  by  the  immutability  of  the  elementary 
materials,  but  by  the  activity  of  one  and  the 
same  spirit  animating  this  docile  body  and 
revealed  in  this  transparent  form — is  not  this 
also  life,  true  life,  as  applied  to  language  ? 

It  is  useless,  taught  Breal,  to  try  to  discover 
any  life  immanent  in  the  words  themselves ; 
words  are  but  products,  they  receive  their  life 
only  from  the  spirit  that  permeates  and  sub- 
sists in  them,  constantly  working  upon  them. 
Mens  agitat  molem. 

The  more  we  reflect  on  Fichte's  famous 
theory  dealing  with  the  contrast  between  the 
German  and  the  Latin  tongues,  the  more  risky 
does  it  appear.  Independently  of  this  theory, 
however,  we  cannot  look  upon  language  as 
either  the  basis  or  the  criterion  of  nationality. 

Here  we  must  distinguish  between  primitive 
men  and  men  who  have  attained  to  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  consciousness  and  personality. 
Those  who  are  dominated  by  instinct  group 
themselves  together  according  to  language, 
and  see  only  a  stranger,  often  an  enemy,  in 
the  man  whom  they  neither  understand  nor 
are  understood  by.  But  cultured  minds  are 
not,  to  the  same  extent,  slaves  of  the  idiom 
they  speak.  They  can  know  and  appreciate 


1 82          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

one  another  in  spite  of  differences  of  language ; 
they  can,  in  different  languages,  become  aware 
of  the  same  tastes,  keep  alive  the  same 
memories,  recognize  a  mutual  solidarity  of 
interests  and  of  physical,  intellectual  and 
moral  life,  profess  the  same  faith  and  aim  after 
the  same  ideal.  Instances  are  not  lacking  of 
nations  in  which  several  languages  are  spoken 
and  where  there  exists  a  very  clear  and  strong 
sense  of  national  unity.  The  more  men  are 
civilized,  the  less  do  we  find  them  subordinat- 
ing the  ends  to  the  means.  If  they  wish  to  be 
united,  they  can  be;  even  though  they  may  be 
deprived  of  that  precious  instrument  for  attain- 
ing union :  a  common  language. 

Does  this  mean  that  nationality  has  no 
relation  to  language  in  the  case  of  highly 
cultured  men  ?  No  such  conclusion  need  be 
drawn.  Still,  it  seems  just  to  admit  that  the 
whole  of  human  language  is  not  contained  in 
the  languages  we  learn  from  our  parents. 
Along  with  the  language  we  receive  passively 
is  that  we  make  for  ourselves,  one  capable  of 
innumerable  forms.  Monuments,  works  of 
art  of  every  kind,  form  a  language  which  gives 
notable  expression  to  the  national  character. 
The  rites  of  ordinary  life,  games,  ceremonies, 
are  all  symbols  of  the  common  thought.  Two 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  183 

persons  animated  by  mutual  sympathy  under- 
stand each  other  through  the  different  lan- 
guages they  speak ;  community  of  thought  is 
expressed  by  the  creation  of  fine  shades  of 
meaning  and  of  special  forms  which  each  of 
them  introduces  into  his  mother-tongue.  In 
a  word,  one  is  naturally  inclined  to  learn  the 
language  of  those  amongst  whom  one  willingly 
lives.  And  so  unity  of  language,  whether  in 
the  spiritual  or  the  material  sense,  tends  to 
become  established,  if  it  was  not  already  there, 
in  the  very  heart  of  a  firmly  constituted  nation, 
and  itself  becomes  an  element  of  nationality. 
But  the  language  which  is  an  expression  of 
nationality,  in  men  of  advanced  culture,  is 
not  the  language  that  results  from  birth,  but 
rather  that  created  by  the  common  activity 
of  members  of  the  same  nation.  Now,  it  is 
just  this  language  which  presupposes  that 
free  consent  of  hearts  and  wills  which  the 
linguistic  theory  of  nationality  would  fain 
declare  superfluous. 

Apart  from  race  and  language,  history  is 
nowadays  frequently  advanced  as  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  nationality.  This  doctrine 
is  readily  employed  to  prove  that  the  various 
nationalities  cannot  be  regarded  as  equal  in 
their  rights,  but  that  the  march  of  events,  in 


1 84          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

this  world,  tends  to  establish  the  domination 
of  some  peoples  over  the  rest.  The  world's 
history,  we  are  told,  is  the  world's  tribunal. 
History,  in  its  course,  has  judged  the  nations, 
and  has  proclaimed  that  it  is  the  mission  of 
one  of  them,  the  German  people,  to  set  its 
yoke  on  all  the  rest,  and  to  organize  the  world 
according  to  its  own  ideas.  History  is  not  a 
picture  of  the  past,  more  or  less  faithfully 
traced  out  by  man;  it  is  the  interior  objective 
course  of  events.  The  chosen  people  is  no 
more  free  to  shirk  its  mission  than  the  in- 
ferior peoples  have  the  right  to  rise  against  the 
chosen  people.  History  dictates  laws  to  which 
superiors  and  inferiors  alike  owe  obedience. 

It  would  certainly  be  wrong  to  eliminate 
the  consideration  of  history  under  the  plea  that 
certain  nations  have  deduced  from  the  historic 
theory  the  most  exorbitant  consequences.  No 
doubt  the  history  of  a  people  is  an  important 
factor  of  its  nationality;  for  in  every  country 
we  find  the  advocates  of  the  national  idea 
constantly  appealing  to  the  common  past,  to 
the  historical  conditions  which  have  created 
and  preserved  the  collective  personality  whose 
existence  and  rights  they  defend. 

Still,  the  same  distinction  must  be  made 
regarding  the  part  played  by  history  as  regard- 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  185 

ing  that  of  race  or  language.  The  nations 
that  live  in  a  spontaneous  condition  inevitably 
depend,  whether  they  know  it  or  not,  on  the 
historical  conditions  that  controlled  their 
formation.  But  the  nations  in  whom  there 
have  been  awakened  consciousness,  reflection, 
a  critical  spirit,  are  not  linked  to  the  past  in 
the  same  degree.  A  distinguished  American 
poet,  Henry  van  Dyke,  has  written  the  follow- 
ing line : 

"  But  the  glory  of  the  present  is  to  make  the  future  free." 

How  noble  an  exaltation  of  human  initia- 
tive ! 

The  history  invoked  by  the  nations  to  main- 
tain and  strengthen  their  existence  does  not 
consist  of  crude  facts,  such  as  might  be  re- 
vealed by  a  scholar's  investigations ;  it  is  that 
part  of  the  past  which  responds  to  the  actual 
national  sentiment,  and  in  which  the  present 
sees  not  only  its  origins  but  also  the  pledge  of 
its  vitality  and  the  means  of  attaining  to  the 
ends  after  which  it  aims. 

It  is  with  this  idea  that  Frenchmen  of  to-day 
regard,  as  outstanding  features  in  their  history, 
that  model  of  French  virtue,  Joan  of  Arc,  or 
the  cathedral  of  Rheims,  the  cradle  and  centre 
of  national  unity,  or  the  French  Revolution, 


1 86          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

that  declaration  of  French  will  to  establish  the 
reign  of  justice  in  the  political  institutions  of 
humanity.  Here  a  choice  has  evidently  been 
made  from  amongst  the  data  of  history.  The 
true  principle  is  not  history  itself,  but  rather 
living,  present  thought,  which  relies  on  the 
past  to  prepare  the  future. 

And  who  would  maintain  that,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  French,  those  who  find  in  the 
dust  of  libraries  a  providential  mission  to  sub- 
jugate the  world  and  exploit  it  to  their  advan- 
tage are  the  true  servants  of  objective  history  ? 
Does  anyone  who  regards  history  in  a  strictly 
scientific  fashion  imagine  that  God,  when 
creating  the  world,  had  no  other  design  than 
to  establish  the  world-wide  domination  of  the 
Hohenzollerns  ?  Is  it  not  rather  history  in- 
terpreted in  a  preconceived  fashion  than  con- 
sidered objectively  that  brings  a  like  revelation 
to  the  world  ? 

In  the  nations  which  live  in  a  reflective 
state,  history  is  one  element — though  not  the 
basis — of  nationality.  In  these  nations,  in- 
deed, it  is  not  looked  upon  as  an  external 
fatality,  of  which  nationality  is  a  simple  mani- 
festation. It  is  dominated  by  a  principle  of 
adhesion,  of  choice  and  will,  which  has  its 
seat  in  the  consciousness  of  the  nations.  This 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY   187 

precise  form  of  history  which,  in  reflective 
thought,  is  linked  with  the  idea  of  nationality, 
is  in  no  way  contrasted  with  the  role  which 
the  French  theory  attributes  to  consent  and 
to  will,  for  it  presupposes  the  predominant 
operation  of  these  very  conditions. 

If  the  theories  we  have  just  examined  ex- 
cluded that  equality  between  the  nations 
which,  from  the  French  point  of  view,  is  a 
fundamental  one,  they  at  all  events  main- 
tained the  idea  of  the  nation  as  a  moral  person. 
Certain  other  theories,  now  in  force,  are  less 
concerned  with  establishing  and  defining  the 
idea  of  nationality,  than  with  superseding  it. 
They  set  up  principles  of  another  order,  and 
then  define  nationality  in  terms  of  these 
principles. 

One  of  these  notions  is  that  of  the  State,  in 
the  meaning  given  to  this  word  by  a  nation 
which  owes  to  the  State  all  it  is — Prussia. 

The  State,  according  to  the  Prussian  doc- 
trine, is  the  highest  power  on  earth,  it  is  even 
supraterrestrial,  for  it  is  the  realization  of 
divine  power;  it  is  God,  no  longer  potential, 
but  actual,  and  become  capable  of  acting  in 
the  visible  world,  the  world  of  existences. 

The  essence  of  the  State  is  unity,  a  concrete 
unity,  built  up  of  the  freedom  of  its  members. 


1 88          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

Individuals  regard  themselves  as  free  when 
they  exercise  their  free  will,  their  individual 
liberty.  They  are  mistaken :  free  will  is  some- 
thing other  than  a  revolt  against  unity,  against 
true  liberty,  against  God.  It  is  the  result  and 
the  principle  of  sin.  Liberty  is  effective  only 
if  it  is  organized,  and  it  is  the  State  that 
realizes  this  organization.  True  liberty,  for 
the  individual,  is  the  unity  of  his  will  with 
that  of  the  whole:  "  die  Einheit  des  Einzelnen 
mit  dem  Ganzen."  The  individual  is  free  in 
so  far  as  he  thinks,  feels,  acts,  moves  and 
exists  only  in  and  by  the  whole — i.e.,  in  the 
State  and  by  the  might  of  the  State. 

The  State  is  an  eminently  moral  being;  it  is 
the  loftiest  realization  of  freedom  and  justice. 
Consequently,  whereas  the  individual,  as 
regards  the  State,  has  only  duties  and  no 
rights,  the  State,  when  dealing  with  indi- 
viduals, has  only  rights  and  no  duties.  Its 
duty  is  to  realize  its  essence,  which  is  force, 
and  so  to  become  as  strong  as  possible. 

According  to  this  definition,  the  State  is  so 
far  no  more  than  an  ideal.  Is  this  ideal 
realized  in  our  world  ? 

The  philosopher  Fichte  had  discovered  that 
the  German  ego  was  none  other  than  the 
divine  ego  itself,  whose  task  it  was  to  regener- 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  1 89 

ate  the  world  after  its  own  image.  He  neg- 
lected to  state,  however,  by  what  means 
Germanism  could  carry  out  this  task.  Hegel 
converted  a  dream  into  a  reality  by  demon- 
strating that  the  Prussian  State  was  the  very 
agent  appointed  by  Providence  to  accomplish 
the  divine  work,  the  Germanic  task,  and  that 
the  kingdom  of  the  spirit,  the  kingdom  of  the 
German  spirit,  was  nothing  else  than  the 
omnipotence  of  the  Prussian  State. 

This  clear  and  precise  doctrine  wonderfully 
simplifies  the  problem  of  the  essence  and  right 
of  nationalities.  The  Prussian  State,  the 
centre  and  focus  of  divine  unity,  has  for  its 
mission  and  its  raison  d'etre  the  extension 
throughout  the  world  of  the  benefits  of  that 
superior  organization  whereof  it  is  the  type. 
It  appertains  to  this  State  to  discern  the  part 
which  each  group  of  men  is  capable  of  playing 
in  the  world- wide  task  of  civilization,  and,  by 
a  wise  division  of  work,  to  realize  divine 
unity  and  peace  within  a  free  and  conscious 
humanity. 

And  so  in  this  doctrine  we  have  the  idea  of 
nationality  replaced  by  that  of  function.  A 
nation  is  a  functionary,  contributing,  in  the 
way  indicated  by  his  chief,  to  the  working  of 
the  human  machine. 


i9o          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

All  the  same,  we  may  ask,  is  this  the 
true  idea  of  humanity?  Kant  claimed  that 
humanity,  which  is  the  substance  of  indi- 
vidual and  nation  alike,  should  always  be 
considered,  not  as  a  means,  but  as  an  end  in 
itself.  "  Handle  so,  dass  du  die  Menschheit, 
sowohl  in  deiner  Person,  als  in  der  Person 
eines  jeden  Andern,  jederzeit  zugleich  als 
Zweck,  niemals  bloss  als  Mittel  brauchst." 
Surely  this  doctrine,  which  sums  up  the  highest 
teaching  of  the  ancient  wisdom,  of  Christian- 
ity and  of  modern  thought,  should  not  nowa- 
days be  regarded  as  out  of  date,  and  the  most 
perfect  form  of  human  life  henceforth  consist 
of  the  kind  of  life  lived  by  bees  and  ants ! 

Undoubtedly,  man  possesses  the  faculty  of 
organization,  and  it  is  the  widest  possible 
exercise  of  this  precious  faculty  that  condi- 
tions his  very  progress  and  existence.  All  the 
same,  must  he  become  engrossed  and  annihi- 
late himself  in  the  mechanism  he  creates  ? 
Born  a  human  being,  intelligent  and  free, 
capable  of  a  conscious  and  personal  life,  is  it 
his  ideal  to  abjure  these  characteristics  and 
become  reduced  to  the  state  of  an  organ, 
limited  to  the  faculties  which  the  functions 
of  this  organ  demand  ? 

Neither  morality  nor  common  sense  permits 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  191 

us  thus  to  renounce  the  idea  of  humanity, 
which  the  greatest  minds  of  all  time  have 
taught  us  to  honour. 

No  doubt  both  individuals  and  nations,  if 
they  would  act  effectively,  must  concentrate 
their  strength  on  certain  fixed  objects,  and 
abandon  a  universality  which  is  nothing  more 
than  indetermination  and  impotence.  Still, 
this  necessary  specialization  does  not  prevent 
men  from  retaining  the  general  qualities  where- 
by they  resemble  one  another,  and  the  exercise 
of  which  aids  in  the  performance  of  the  special 
work  itself.  Man  is  a  being  who  makes  him- 
self tools.  Of  himself,  in  a  sense,  he  makes  an 
instrument.  But  how  could  the  tool  render 
the  workman  useless  ?  On  the  contrary,  the 
tool  is  all  the  more  effective  when  handled  by 
an  intelligent  workman.  The  whole  man, 
applying  himself  to  a  particular  task,  his 
mind  retaining  its  relationship  with  the  in- 
finite whilst  functioning  in  a  material  finite 
body:  such  is  the  privilege  of  human  nature. 
"  Be  a  whole  man  to  one  thing  at  a  time," 
said  Carlyle. 

Again,  the  interest  and  nobility  of  mankind 
require  that  the  various  human  qualities 
should,  to  a  certain  extent,  be  distributed 
amongst  the  different  peoples  and  individuals, 


192          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

so  that  each  may  carry  to  a  higher  degree  of 
perfection  that  quality  which,  in  a  way,  it 
represents.  It  is  just,  then,  to  admit  that  the 
human  person,  both  in  the  case  of  nations  and 
of  individuals,  is  deserving  of  respect,  not 
only  in  what  he  has  in  common  with  all  men, 
but  also  in  the  very  characteristics  that  dis- 
tinguish him  and  constitute  a  certain  type  of 
humanity.  Liberty,  in  so  far  as  it  is  the  right 
to  be  oneself  and  to  develop  one's  own  being  to 
the  extent  that  this  development  can  be  recon- 
ciled with  that  of  other  persons,  is  a  principle 
of  dignity  and  fruitfulness.  Nations  serve 
humanity  far  more  effectively  if  they  can  main- 
tain their  distinctive  temperament  and  remain 
faithful  to  their  ideal  than  if  they  are  com- 
pelled to  serve  an  alien  cause. 

And  so,  however  powerfully  organized  a 
certain  State  may  be,  it  is  the  duty  of  mankind 
to  resist  the  claim  manifested  by  this  State 
to  exercise  hegemony  over  all  the  rest.  Every 
fully  conscious  and  living  State  is,  like  every 
person,  an  end  in  itself;  the  diversity  of  the 
various  nationalities  and  their  equal  right  to 
free  development  are  conditions  both  of  their 
own  dignity  and  of  the  greatness  of  the  human 
race.  In  the  relations  between  States,  duty 
consists  in  more  fully  realizing  the  idea  of  a 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY     193 

relation  between  person  and  person,  based  on 
consent  and  sympathy,  not  the  idea  of  passive 
submission,  imposed  by  constraint  and  in- 
timidation. 

The  idea  of  the  State  is  not  the  only  one 
contrasted  with  our  principle  of  nationality. 
Along  the  same  lines,  the  idea  of  culture  is 
also  put  forward. 

Culture,  we  are  told,  is  the  final  object  of  all 
the  higher  aspirations  of  mankind.  All  other 
ends  have  a  relative  value;  it  alone  is  absolute. 
Right,  after  all,  to  which  our  contemporaries 
attach  such  importance,  is  measured  by  degree 
of  culture ;  it  is  absurd  to  recognize  the  same 
rights  in  men  who  are  uncultured,  those  who 
are  half  cultured,  those  who  are  simply  cul- 
tured, and  those  who  are  fully  cultured 
(die  Vollkulturmenschen).  To  these  latter,  by 
virtue  of  their  intrinsic  superiority,  belongs 
authority,  the  right  to  rule  other  men  with  a 
view  to  increasing  their  degree  of  culture 
and  their  participation  in  the  work  of  the 
world . 

And  if  there  exists  a  nation  which  hence- 
forth realizes  the  idea  of  the  loftiest  culture, 
it  appertains  to  that  nation  to  play  the  part 
of  leader. 

Now,   this  condition  actually  exists.     The 

13 


194          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

German  nation  is  the  cultured  nation  par 
excellence.  Its  Universities  are  the  first  in  the 
world.  In  science  and  art,  industry  and  com- 
merce, religious  and  moral  life,  political  and 
military  organization — in  everything  it  excels 
and  is  unique.  It  is  self-sufficient,  for  every- 
thing great  in  the  world  comes  from  it,  and 
its  fruitfulness  is  inexhaustible.  Henceforth, 
it  is  not  only  the  nation  predestined  to  de- 
velop human  culture  to  perfection,  it  is  the 
realization  of  this  culture  itself  in  all  its  essen- 
tial features. 

From  this  it  follows  that  it  w7ould  be  mad- 
ness to  degrade  Germany  to  the  level  of  other 
nations.  There  can  be  no  reciprocity  between 
the  ignorant  and  the  learned,  between  the  un- 
disciplined and  the  disciplined  man,  between 
irreligion  and  piety,  between  corruption  and 
virtue,  between  barbarism  and  culture.  The 
German  people  are  above  the  mediocre  justice 
of  the  weak  and  the  envious ;  they  must,  and 
can,  if  need  be,  tear  up  their  engagements, 
violate  human  conventions  and  the  laws  of 
common  morality,  and  pour  scorn  upon  pre- 
judices and  the  silly  hostilities  of  the  feeble 
and  the  vanquished,  in  order  to  meet  the  stern 
and  dreadful  obligations  their  superior  culture 
imposes  on  them. 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY     195 

In  presence  of  this  supreme  right,  the 
so-called  right  of  nationality  is  but  a  crude 
fact,  of  no  rational  importance.  From  the 
summit  of  her  science,  her  moral  worth  and 
her  might,  Germany  must  control  the  educa- 
tion of  the  nations,  apportion  to  them  their 
tasks,  not  in  accordance  with  their  own  wishes 
and  inclinations,  but  according  to  her  own 
will,  and  so  make  them  capable  of  contribu- 
ting, as  she  understands  it,  to  the  progress  of 
supreme — i.e.,  German — culture. 

Such  are  the  consequences  reached  by 
German  theorists  along  the  lines  of  an  im- 
perious logic.  The  reason  for  this  result 
may  be  found  in  the  idea  they  form  of 
culture. 

According  to  the  Germans  themselves,  it  is 
the  moral  element  that  constitutes  the  basis  and 
the  main  characteristic  of  their  culture.  Such 
is  the  teaching  of  their  University  professors, 
and  such  the  declaration  of  the  first  professor 
in  the  empire — the  Kaiser,  who,  distinguishing 
between  civilization  and  culture,  attributes  to 
his  people  a  monopoly  of  culture,  since  true 
culture  implies  the  preponderance  of  the  moral 
factor,  and  Germans  alone  possess  the  notion 
of  duty.  In  reality,  however,  German  culture 
corresponds  in  no  way  to  this  theory.  Its 


i96          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

dominant  idea  is  that  science  and  power  are 
the  two  poles  of  human  life.  Science  as  the 
principle,  power  as  the  end,  and  organization 
as  the  means:  such,  in  reality,  is  the  German 
conception  of  culture. 

Hence  it  is  easily  explainable  that  culture, 
in  Germany,  is  regarded  as  a  cause  of  in- 
equality and  a  justification  of  despotism. 
Indeed,  science,  power,  organization,  are 
quantitative  terms,  comprising  numerically 
measurable  differences.  And  it  is  possible  to 
prove  objectively  that  some  particular  nation, 
compared  with  the  rest,  contains  more  schools, 
more  works,  more  cannon.  Also,  if  science, 
organization,  and  power,  form  the  whole  ideal 
of  human  life,  it  is  logical  that  the  nation 
which  regards  itself  as  first  in  these  three 
domains  should  aspire  after  world  -  wide 
domination.  The  conception,  however,  of  the 
human  ideal  which  actually  governs  modern 
Germany  is  a  very  debatable  one. 

Long  ago  the  Greek  philosophers  pointed 
out  the  original  and  distinctive  value  of  the 
strictly  moral  qualities:  self-control,  the  cult 
of  justice  and  modesty,  respect  for  human 
dignity,  and  scorn  of  brute  force.  And  in 
modern  times,  beneath  the  combined  influence 
of  Hellenism  and  Christianity,  respect  for 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY  197 

the  voice  of  conscience,  honour,  good  faith, 
humanity,  concern  for  justice  and  equity, 
both  in  political  ^nd  social  as  well  as  in 
individual  relations,  have  more  and  more  em- 
phatically been  valued  and  extolled,  when  con- 
fronted with  the  most  triumphant  and  terrible 
powers.  The  result  is  that  the  moral  element 
of  civilization  has  been  more  and  more  dis- 
tinguished from  the  material  or  even  intel- 
lectual elements,  not  in  words,  but  in  reality, 
and  set  above  these  elements. 

But  if  culture  is  thus  interpreted,  it  could 
not  in  its  development  prejudice  the  equality 
of  nations  and  confer  on  a  so-called  superior 
nation  the  right  to  subjugate  the  rest.  Whilst, 
indeed,  men  are  irremediably  unequal  in 
things  connected  with  science  and  power,  on 
the  other  hand  they  are  radically  equal  in 
their  capacity  of  aspiring  after  moral  worth. 
Any  culture  which  really  deserves  to  be  called 
moral,  instead  of  doing  away  with  this  equal- 
ity, recognizes  and  sanctions  it. 

And  so  we  cannot  legitimately  lay  aside  the 
French  theory  of  nationality  in  the  name  of 
culture,  as  the  human  consciousness  interprets 
it. 

The  State  and  culture  are  not  the  only 
notions  we  find  set  above  the  principle  of 


198          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

nationality;  there  has  been  established  a 
doctrine  which  raises  force,  material  brute 
force,  above  every  principle  that  can  be  con- 
ceived by  man. 

This  doctrine  starts  with  the  distinction 
between  abstract  or  potential  right  and  real 
or  concrete  right.  Abstract  right,  it  is  de- 
clared, is  but  a  vain,  ineffective  possibility; 
right  possesses  its  distinctive  quality  of  exact- 
ableness  only  if  it  is  upheld  and  actualized  by 
force:  we  possess  only  what  we  can  defend. 
Thus  force  precedes  right  (Macht  geht  vor 
Recht],  a  maxim  often  erroneously  interpreted 
as  meaning  that  force  takes  precedence  over 
right. 

So  far  force  is  but  the  condition  under  which 
right  is  realized,  a  grave  enough  doctrine,  for, 
in  a  sense,  from  the  practical  if  not  from  the 
theoretical  point  of  view,  it  means  that  right 
without  force  is  non-existent. 

German  thought,  however,  goes  farther  than 
this.  We  know  that  the  Hegelian  philosophy 
lays  down  as  a  fundamental  dogma  the  identity 
of  the  rational  and  the  real.  From  this  point 
of  view,  force  is  not  simply  one  condition  of 
the  realization  of  right:  it  is  right  itself,  re- 
garded from  the  standpoint  of  the  real.  Here 
force  becomes  literally  the  equivalent,  the 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY     199 

practical  substitute,  of  right,  the  only  right 
known  and  recognized  by  minds  framed  to 
distinguish  realities  from  vain  ideas.  A  realis- 
tic policy  knows  only  force;  when  the  word 
right  is  uttered,  it  thinks  of  force.  It  sees  but 
an  empty  word  in  a  right  which  does  not 
present  itself  under  the  aspect  of  force. 

Thus  force  is  moral,  sacred  and  divine,  at 
all  events  when  it  is  strongest  and  imposes 
itself  irresistibly.  The  reasonings  of  men 
regarding  the  intrinsic  value  of  ideas  that  have 
not  force  on  their  side  are  but  the  despicable 
revenge  of  weakness  and  cowardice  upon 
energy  and  the  spirit  of  domination.  In  the 
beginning  was  action  or  acting  force;  within 
it  lies  all  that  engenders,  all  that  counts,  all 
that  is. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  show  that  this  doctrine 
does  away  with  the  principle  of  nationality. 
If  a  nation  happens  to  be  the  strongest,  it 
thereby  possesses  the  right,  from  this  stand- 
point, to  dispose  as  it  pleases  of  the  fate  of 
other  nations.  It  cannot  with  any  sincerity 
respect  their  independence.  To  bring  them 
to  a  condition  of  obedience,  it  will  consider 
that  it  can  legitimately  use  every  means  in 
its  power.  It  will  aim  at  reducing  them  to 
the  condition  of  instruments,  and  reducing  the 


200          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

world  to  a  vast  machine  of  which  it  will  be 
the  first  mover. 

A  strange  ideal  for  men  who  pride  them- 
selves on  attaining  to  the  synthesis  of  all  the 
progress  that  has  been  effected  throughout  the 
ages  by  the  whole  of  humanity  !  Was  it  not 
everywhere  believed  that  human  progress  had 
mainly  consisted  in  thrusting  farther  and 
farther  into  the  background  that  force  which, 
amongst  primitive  beings,  is  the  predominant 
law  ?  Is  not  what  is  called  humanity  pre- 
cisely the  sum  total  of  another  order  of  quali- 
ties which  tend  to  dominate,  to  tame  and 
permeate  force  ? 

In  this  connection,  nothing  is  clearer  than 
the  dual  teaching  bequeathed  to  men  by 
Hellenism  and  Christianity. 

Aristotle  expresses  Hellenic  thought  in  his 
remarkable  doctrine  of  the  relation  of  God  to 
the  world.  God,  or  perfect  Being,  says  the 
author  of  the  Metaphysics,  moves  the  world 
by  the  virtue  he  possesses  of  being  at  once  the 
supremely  intelligible  and  the  supremely  desir- 
able. In  such  terms  does  Aristotle  define 
God,  eliminating  force  from  his  nature  and 
retaining  only  thought  and  goodness.  It  is 
in  the  world  of  sense  that  he  places  force,  as 
being  the  lower  essence,  which  must  be 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY     201 

spiritualized,  made  tractable  and  gentle,  under 
the  divine  influence. 

And  whereas  the  Greek  ideal  regarded  the 
supremely  intelligible  and  the  supremely  desir- 
able as  being  in  the  divine  essence,  Christian- 
ity, wishing  to  show  even  more  strongly  the 
contrast  between  God  and  force,  defines  God 
by  the  word  love,  and  only  looks  upon  the 
other  perfections  as  worthy  of  God  if  they  are 
permeated  by  love.  Even  more  completely 
than  intelligence,  indeed,  is  love  irreducible  to 
force,  opposed  to  constraint  and  to  mechanical 
necessity. 

What,  from  the  Christian  point  of  view,  is 
the  supernatural,  wherein  men  must  seek  the 
realization  of  their  destiny  ?  It  is  the  triumph 
of  love  over  force,  and  it  is  also,  in  spite  of 
their  impotence  from  the  physical  standpoint, 
purity  of  heart,  meekness,  the  spirit  of  justice 
and  pity,  victorious  alike  in  heaven  and  on 
earth. 

Such  is  the  faith  of  humanity.  So  long  as 
there  are  men  worthy  of  the  name,  they  will 
maintain  these  beliefs  over  against  that  refined 
barbarism  which,  armed  with  science  and 
cannon,  would  pluck  them  from  their  soul. 
For,  as  Pascal  said,  this  cannot  act  upon  that: 
justice  is  of  another  order  than  force. 


202          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

III. 

However  distinct  from  one  another  be  the 
principles  in  the  name  of  which  the  French 
doctrine  of  nationality  is  combated,  these 
principles  all  end  in  the  same  consequence, 
which  it  is  important  that  we  should  clearly 
set  forth. 

They  substitute  hierarchy  in  the  place  of 
equality  between  nations,  and  posit  the  exist- 
ence of  a  head  nation  whose  mission  it  is  to 
dominate  the  rest  and  assign  to  them  their 
place  and  function  in  the  universe. 

What,  exactly,  is  the  fate  which,  according 
to  this  theory,  awaits  the  so-called  inferior 
nations  ? 

There  are  three  cases  for  us  to  consider. 

The  first  is  that  of  the  nations  immediately 
assimilable  into  the  head  nation.  This  latter 
will  respect — and  cause  to  be  respected — the 
integrity  of  the  nations  in  question,  and,  more 
or  less  openly,  will  incorporate  them  into 
itself.  Indeed,  from  its  point  of  view,  it  is  by 
abandoning  an  illusory  independence  and 
blending  with  the  whole  to  which  they 
virtually  belong,  that  these  nations  can  truly 
become  themselves  and  exercise  their  full 
powers. 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY     203 

The  second  case  is  that  of  radically  irredu- 
cible nations,  which  affect  to  set  up  against 
both  menace  or  flattery  an  invincible  claim 
to  independence.  The  end  which,  as  they 
think,  the  head  nation  must  aim  at  is  exter- 
mination. Utterly  to  destroy  irreducible 
rebels,  to  crush  their  material  power  and 
moral  existence,  is  the  sole  means  of  assuring 
the  triumph  of  good,  the  welfare  of  man- 
kind. 

The  third  case  is  that  of  the  nations  which, 
though  not  actually  assimilable,  are  capable 
of  being  utilized,  and  whose  destruction,  more- 
over, it  would  be  practically  impossible  to 
effect.  The  situation  adapted  to  these  nations 
is  that  of  vassals  or  subjects  or  dependents 
of  the  head  nation.  Kept  strictly  dependent, 
never  able  to  satisfy  the  passions  of  revenge 
or  rebellion  to  which  the  conquered  are  ex- 
posed, such  nations  may  gradually  come  to 
recognize  the  superiority  and  friendliness  of 
the  head  nation  and  prove  deserving  to  play 
an  ever  more  active  and  prominent  part  in 
the  general  task  of  civilization. 

If  we  compare  these  theoretical  conclusions 
with  the  realities  around  us,  we  find  that  the 
countries  whose  nationality  is  most  threatened 
by  the  doctrine  of  the  head  nation  are  those 


204          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

nearest  to  it  in  language,  culture  and  customs. 
We  cannot  imagine  the  possibility  of  Italians, 
Spaniards,  Englishmen,  Frenchmen,  or  Poles, 
ever  becoming  Germans.  Apart,  then,  from 
their  extermination,  a  manifest  impossibility, 
Germany  would  be  compelled  to  permit  these 
peoples  largely  to  retain  their  nationality.  It 
is  not  so  with  the  Flemish,  the  Dutch,  the 
Swedes,  the  Danes,  etc.  However  original 
the  culture,  however  glorious  the  traditions, 
of  these  nations,  a  common  political  life  with 
the  Germans  would  prove  their  moral  de- 
struction. Swedes,  Dutch,  and  Danes,  once 
united  to  Germans,  would  literally  become 
Germans  themselves ;  their  admirable  civiliza- 
tion would  be  no  more  than  a  museum  of 
antiquities  or  a  page  of  history  growing  musty 
in  the  libraries. 

And  so  it  is  the  nations  with  a  language 
and  culture  most  akin  to  the  German  whose 
future  is  most  threatened  by  the  struggle  now 
taking  place  between  the  principle  of  nation- 
ality and  that  of  a  feudal  autocratic  empire. 
The  defeat  of  the  defenders  of  national  right 
would  involve  the  moral  ruin  of  these  small 
unresisting  nations.  It  is  but  fair  to  state 
that  the  Allies,  in  fighting  for  their  own  free- 
dom and  independence,  are  shedding  their 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY     205 

blood  for  all  those,  throughout  the  world,  who 
are  jealous  of  their  national  patrimony  and 
their  human  dignity. 

As  all  the  theories  we  have  examined  culmin- 
ate in  one  common  result,  so  also  do  they  ap- 
pear to  conceive  of  human  nature  along  certain 
lines.  That  which  characterizes  this  common 
conception  is  the  subordinate — even  harmful 
— role  attributed  to  feeling.  Cold  calculation 
alone,  affirmed  Bismarck,  was  worthy  of  a 
statesman.  The  entire  Prusso-German  policy 
and  methods  of  war  are  based  on  this  scorn  of 
feeling.  In  the  German  philosophy  itself  we 
generally  find  that  feeling  has  been  set  aside, 
thrust  into  the  background,  or  reduced  to  the 
other  faculties  of  the  mind.  Kant  declared 
that  there  could  be  no  moral  doctrine  worthy 
of  the  name,  which  did  not  make  a  radical 
elimination  of  sensibility.  And  the  means 
Leibnitz  employed  to  maintain  the  value  and 
importance  of  feeling  was  to  regard  it  as  an 
obscure  and  lower  form  of  intellectual  percep- 
tion. Undoubtedly,  there  are  remarkable 
mystical  doctrines  in  German  philosophy, 
though  here  the  mysticism  is  mainly  intel- 
lectual: it  is  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  the 
absolute.  What  does  Faust  demand  ?  To 
see  in  itself,  he  says,  the  creative  activity  of 


206          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

being,  to  contemplate  the  elementary  germs 
of  things : 

"  Dass  ich  .  .  . 
Schau'  alle  Wirksamkeit  und  Samen.  .  .  ." 

Now,  if  feeling  is  eliminated  from  the  human 
soul,  there  remain  intellect  and  will,  so  parched 
and  withered  that  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other,  nor  their  combination,  is  able  to  up- 
hold the  reality  and  value  of  the  individuality. 

Intellect,  isolated  from  feeling  and  thrust 
back  upon  itself,  tends  towards  a  wholly 
abstract  idea  of  the  one  and  the  universal. 
If  men  are  distinguished  from  one  another  by 
their  intellect,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word, 
it  is  only  in  so  far  as  some  are  more  intelligent 
and  learned  than  the  rest.  Here,  their  pro- 
gress consists  in  differing  less  and  less  from 
one  another,  in  freeing  themselves  from  their 
individuality. 

It  is  the  same  with  will,  when  divorced  from 
feeling.  Will,  of  itself,  tends  solely  towards 
effective  action,  and  so  towards  organization 
and  unity,  the  conditions  of  power.  It  con- 
stantly happens  that  men  think  they  will,  of 
and  by  themselves,  what  is  really  suggested 
to  them  and  is  but  the  expression  of  an  in- 
influence  exerted  over  them,  even  though  they 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY    207 

do  not  know  it,  by  a  stronger  will  or  by  the 
general  urge  of  a  group  to  which  they  belong. 

And  so,  reduced  to  intellect  and  will  alone, 
man  tends  to  be  no  more  than  an  anonymous 
force  whose  right  employment  is  mechanical 
collaboration  in  collective  work.  In  such  a 
system  as  that  of  Hegel,  individuals  are  not 
exactly  without  a  distinctive  existence  and  a 
raison  d'etre.  Their  part,  however,  consists  in 
building  up  a  structure  from  which  they  will 
be  excluded.  The  life  of  the  whole  will  be 
made  up  of  their  death.  Their  individualities, 
as  such,  are  of  no  value ;  they  have  no  right  to 
exist.  They  are  the  drops  of  rain  which  com- 
pose the  ocean. 

But  humanity  is  not  imperatively  compelled 
to  accept  the  conception  of  human  nature 
which  has  prevailed  in  German  thought. 
Feeling,  the  subjective  and  individual  element 
of  our  being,  is  not  really  a  simple  epiphe- 
nomenon,  unstable  and  ineffective,  nor  is  it  a 
purely  provisional  form  of  existence.  Feeling 
is  the  very  stuff  composing  our  consciousness 
which  would  otherwise  lose  itself  in  the  uni- 
versal and  the  impersonal.  Our  cognitions 
and  wills  are  our  own;  emptied  of  all  feeling, 
however,  they  are  like  any  commonplace  coin, 
which  remains  the  same  no  matter  through 


208          PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

whose  hands  it  may  have  passed.  Feeling  is 
more  than  something  that  belongs  to  us:  it  is 
our  very  self.  We  may  have  our  cognitions 
and  wills  in  common  with  others ;  it  is  only  in 
a  metaphorical  sense  that  our  feelings  can  be 
shared.  The  subjectivity  proper  to  feeling 
forms  an  integral  part  of  its  essence. 

Besides,  what  is  this  intellect,  this  will, 
regarded  as  devoid  of  all  dealings  with  feeling  ? 
Is  such  a  separation  possible?  Can  it  be  looked 
upon  as  desirable  ? 

If  we  consider  our  will  and  intellect  in 
normal  exercise,  we  find  that  in  reality  they 
do  not  function  apart  from  feeling.  Science, 
ready-made,  so  to  speak,  or  regarded  as  such, 
may  be  expounded  and  taught  by  the  aid  of 
axioms  and  purely  abstract  reasonings.  But 
science  is  only  created,  developed,  and  kept 
living  and  true,  by  means  of  constant  inter- 
course with  reality.  Now,  this  intercourse  has 
its  seat  in  feeling.  In  reality,  the  science 
which  seems  ready-made  is  never  anything 
more  than  a  stage  in  the  science  which  is  in 
process  of  making;  fresh  progress  may  always 
demand  a  modification  of  the  most  firmly  es- 
tablished results;  contact  with  reality  ever 
remains  indispensable. 

Will,  likewise,  has  need  of  feeling  if  it  is  to 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY     209 

avoid  abstract  formalism  and  fanaticism. 
The  very  notion  of  duty  is  as  dangerous  as  it 
is  sublime  if  it  arrogantly  flings  aside  all  con- 
nection with  feeling.  It  is  the  necessary  and 
legitimate  guide  of  human  life  only  if  it  has  a 
content,  if  it  commands  not  simply  obedience, 
but  the  doing  of  what  it  is  right  and  good  to 
do.  Now,  this  content  can  be  supplied  only 
by  certain  feelings:  justice,  rightmindedness, 
respect,  harmony,  humanity. 

The  whole  of  our  life,  if  we  analyze  its  con- 
ditions, is  thus  based  on  feeling — not  a  crude, 
purely  instinctive  and  blind  feeling,  but  a 
feeling  more  or  less  harmoniously  combined 
with  intellect  and  will. 

In  our  relations  with  men,  in  our  scientific 
works,  artistic  creations  and  religious  activity, 
we  succeed  in  doing  good  and  permanent  work 
only  if  we  draw  from  feeling  an  indispensable 
recognition  of  the  real  and  the  ideal,  of  being 
strictly  so  called,  irreducible  to  our  own  rules 
and  concepts. 

Such  appears  to  be  the  true  nature  of  man. 
Now,  if  we  apply  these  remarks  to  the  question 
of  nationality,  we  find  that  the  French  theory 
is  confirmed  all  along  the  line. 

The  individual's  being  is  inseparable  from 
feeling,  which  is  the  very  basis  of  his  conscious- 

14 


210         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

ness.  Similarly,  a  nation  is,  above  all,  a 
group  of  men  united  by  the  desire  to  live  to- 
gether, by  a  sense  of  solidarity,  by  community 
of  joys  and  sorrows,  by  memories,  aspirations 
and  destinies.  A  nation  is  a  friendship. 

But  feeling,  in  the  individual,  should  not  be 
divorced  from  intellect  and  will,  or  even  from 
the  instincts  of  organic  life.  Man  is  soul  and 
body,  and  that  inseparably.  The  nation,  too, 
whilst  it  possesses  a  soul,  the  feeling  common 
to  all  its  members,  also  possesses  a  body  in- 
separable from  this  soul.  The  body  of  the 
nation  is  the  sum  total  of  those  conditions 
which  we  wrongly  try  to  substitute  for  its 
soul,  but  which  regain  their  full  value  when 
set  in  their  right  place.  These  consist  of  race, 
language  and  history,  State,  culture  and 
power.  Detached  from  the  national  con- 
sciousness and  reduced  to  purely  objective 
data,  these  phenomena  offer  the  idea  of 
nationality  only  a  provisional  basis,  which, 
as  consciousness  evolves,  becomes  ever  more 
ruinous.  It  is  advisable,  however,  to  dis- 
guish  from  these  elements,  as  seen  from  with- 
out, the  same  elements  living  and  developing 
through  the  working  of  the  national  conscious- 
ness ;  just  as  from  the  language  as  given  in  the 
dictionary  we  distinguish  the  language  spoken 


FRENCH  IDEA  OF  NATIONALITY     211 

by  the  people,  changing  and  evolving  day  by 
day;  or  as,  from  that  state  of  passive  habit 
wherein  human  freedom  disappears,  we  dis- 
tinguish an  active  habit  of  which  man  remains 
the  master  and  on  which  he  leans  in  order  to 
transcend  himself.  Race,  language  and  cul- 
ture, are  assuredly  becoming  more  and  more 
clearly  the  manifestations  and  effects  of  con- 
scious activity,  instead  of  being  its  mechanical 
causes,  so  to  speak.  Thus  understood,  race, 
language  and  history,  State,  culture  and 
power,  naturally  resume  their  right  and  im- 
portant place  alongside  of  the  principle  of 
free  consent. 

Ko«/A  ra  ra>v  <f>i\(av,  said  the  Greeks:  "  For 
friends,  all  things  in  common."  In  propor- 
tion as  reflection  grows  and  develops  in  man, 
he  no  longer  simply  regards  community  of 
life,  of  customs  and  destinies,  as  a  sum  total 
of  given  conditions,  but  as  a  form  of  existence 
agreed  to  and  loved  and  constantly  being 
created  anew.  This  is  no  longer  the  body 
becoming  aware  of  itself  in  a  passive  soul;  it 
is  rather  the  creative  soul,  expressing  and 
realizing  itself  in  a  docile  body. 

As  thus  conceived,  nations  are  really  like 
persons ;  consequently,  not  only  do  they  refuse 
to  recognize  the  right  to  suppress  or  crush  rival 


212         PHILOSOPHY  AND  WAR 

nations,  rather  do  they  set  up  the  rule  of 
justice,  equality  and  friendship,  alike  amongst 
peoples  as  amongst  individuals,  as  the  ideal 
of  humanity. 

Why  did  God  create  the  world  ?  asks  Plato 
in  the  Timceus.    And  the  philosopher  replies: 


eyyiyverat,  </>0oj/o<?  (God  was  good,  and  in  him  who 
is  good,  never,  in  whatsoever  connection,  can 
hatred  be  born).  Plato  adds:  "  God,  being 
such,  willed  that  all  things  should  resemble 
him  as  far  as  possible"  (Uavra  6  n  fj,d\i<rra 
yeveaffai  eftovkrjd'ri  7rapa7r\rj(ria  eavry). 

Is  not  the  ideal  set  forth  by  Plato  in  the 
fourth  century  before  Christ  worthy  of  human- 
ity, even  at  the  present  time  ? 


THE   END 


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